This Is Where We Fall (Hetalia Apocalypse AU)
by pinkpoland
Summary: How are nations during the zombie apocalypse? They are just like their citizens, trying to survive. In a world without order. A world without social structure. A world without country borders; the nations must learn how to survive in the new world where death surrounds them constantly. ( Ships: Fruk France x England, SuFin Sweden x Finland, others )
1. The Beginning of The End (Prologue)

**(You can just skip this chapter, it's not really needed in the story)**

No one saw it coming nor were they prepared.

The whole outbreak was sudden and unexpected.

Everyone was living their every day lives, no one expecting it to be their last. Some were at school, getting their daily dose of education. Others were at their jobs, working to earn a living. All expected to retire back home, sleep, and wake up to start everything over again.

No one knew exactly when the outbreak began. The undead just started roaming the streets, feasting on whoever crossed their path. A week after the start of the whole apocalypse, society fell. Country borders ceased to stand. Government authority titles had no more meaning. Nothing else mattered. The only thing that mattered was surviving.

Due to the fall of country borders, the countries' immortality and invincibility disappeared. They were now vulnerable to the dangers of normal life and threats. Very interesting, don't you think? An interesting tale, I must say. Come... Let me tell this interesting tale. I'm sure you're eager to find out what happens...

 **A/N: Sorry for the short beginning prologue. Just needed to explain the situation they're all in. The future chapters will be more lengthy and, well, interesting. I promise you that!**


	2. Not Yet -France & England-

_Crunch crunch_

Arthur crouched behind the corner of a torn down shop. It didn't provide a lot of cover, but just enough to watch the approaching biter. Biters. That's what he called the undead. The living dead who feasts off human flesh and brain. Gross, huh? Arthur thought so too as he narrowed his eyes at the approaching killer. It was less than four meters away from him, coming closer by the second. Raising a stolen handgun he found in a police vehicle, he pointed the barrel straight at the biter's head. Almost... there...

 _Bang_

The biter fell to the ground, once again being sent into death's hands. Arthur recoiled at the sight of its rotting blood and insides oozing out of the bullet hole in its head. A disgusting sight that he would soon learn to live with. The world around was left in silence once more, the sound of the wind blowing by as the only thing that broke the silence. The Brit let out a sigh and slid down the wall, exhausted.

 _Day... 67, was it? Since this whole nightmare began._

Arthur chuckled bitterly, propping up his elbows on his knees while burying his face in his filthy hands. They had already been caked with dirt and dried blood, not necessarily his blood. At the start, he kept track of how many biters he killed. After the fortieth biter, he lost interest in counting.

This new world was interesting to him. Normal people would find this as a horror film or a living nightmare, but Arthur thought different. Yes, for centuries of being surrounded by magical, unusual creatures probably influenced his outlook on this 'end of the world'. The undead intrigued him, but not to the point where he wanted to do further investigation and testing on them. Hell no. He wasn't stupid.

"God, I hate doing this..." The Englishman mumbled, looking down at his gun.

"If you hate it so much, why didn't you use the knife I gave you?" A silky voice came from around the corner, startling Arthur. Jumping back onto his feet, he whipped around to see Francis walking towards him. His usually well-cleaned blonde hair fell at his shoulders in matted, dirty knots. Those fashionable French clothes he so often wore were replaced by a dull red jacket, white t-shirt, and jeans. If they weren't in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, Francis would have had a mental breakdown in being seen in such clothes.

"I didn't want to get up close and personal with the damn thing." Arthur replied, frowning up at the Frenchman. Francis nodded silently and stood beside his British partner.

"I didn't find them." Francis said into the stillness. He had answered Arthur's question before he even thought them, let alone spoke them.

"I see..." Arthur said sadly, looking down. Ever since the start of the whole apocalypse, Arthur and Francis had searched frantically and worriedly for none other than Alfred and Matthew. They both were in North America at the time, living in their own countries. However, word from Brazil had come to them saying that they were not at their homes during the start. Their whereabouts are unknown.

"We'll find them." Francis whispered in a soothing tone. "They will find us, or we will find them. So don't worry, mon chérie." He put a gentle arm around Arthur, and Arthur gratefully leaned into his embrace. He was terribly worried about Alfred and Matthew. He would do anything, literally anything, to see them both again. Just to know that they are safe.

"We should head back." Arthur mumbled. "It'll be dark soon. Plus, we have to rest up to continue our journey to Berlin. We still have loads of miles to take care of."

Right before the start of the apocalypse, there was a world meeting. Everyone had sensed a strange feeling amongst their lands and people. So, that's when Germany decided to set up a plan for if anything went wrong. He ordered that if anything were to go wrong that led to total world destruction, was that everyone should meet up at his capital, Berlin. They all knew that everyone had to be brought together in case of any emergencies. That was the first meeting where all countries agreed with each other.

Arthur and Francis were at the very southern part of France, far away from Berlin. At the start of the apocalypse, they both vowed to do their best to reach Berlin and search everywhere they passed for their missing loved ones. Just the thought of not knowing where the hero and maple leaf were at made them constantly fear for them. They had no knowledge of if they're living or dead nor if they're safe or not. Either way, they knew they must find them, no matter what it took.

"Ready?" Francis asked holding out his hand. Arthur stared at it for a second before slowly taking the offered hand.

"Yes, let's go."

 **A/N: Okay, I just want to explain about future chapters. Each chapter will be about a certain pair/group. For example, this one was about France and England. Each chapter will follow a somewhat different plotline, but each have the same goal. So, just a heads up on how chapters will be set-up and what they'll be about.**


	3. Tears For The Dead -China & Russia-

He hasn't seen beings like these during his old days. Sure, he'd seen things and lived longer than the others, but for the first time, he had no wisdom or advice to share in this matter. Everyday seemed like a new adventure, however not an adventure he'd like to be in. Yao was used to things being predicable and easy to solve since he'd dealt with them before in the past. But now, things were unpredictable and he had no way of knowing how things would play out.

It was night fall, and the Chinese man sat on his knees, staring outside. He had found a shelter near the border of China and Russia. It wasn't a huge shelter, nor was it strong, but it was good enough to last them a night. Oh yeah, them.

Yao turned and looked over at the sleeping Russian who was curled up in the corner of the shack. They had crossed paths during the outbreak and decided they should partner up and face the world together. They were going to the same place anyways, Berlin. The safe house. Yao looked over at Ivan and watched him sleep. He didn't look particularly comfortable nor did he look asleep at all.

"Ivan, I know you're awake." Yao said in a calm voice, looking back outside. It was dark, making it hard to watch out for biters. Ivan's violet eyes opened up and stared at Yao.

"It's hard to sleep." He mumbled quietly, forcing himself to sit back up.

The 'end of the world' had changed both of them, a lot. At the start, they had stayed with their families. Ivan with his sisters, and Yao with his siblings. Everything seemed to be going fine. They had a routine and adapted to their new environment and the new world. However, right when everything seemed to be going smoothly, hell broke lose again.

Ivan lost both his sisters, and Yao lost all his siblings. They both had to watch their family being torn apart in the biters' grasps. Both had to just sit and watch, not being able to do anything about it. Yao dealt with his loss pretty well, due to the fact he'd lost many fellow countries in the past and saw nearly all of the old countries fall. Being the eldest, he witnessed many things. However, Ivan was not like him. Yes, he was used to being left and hurt by those he loved, but he was never in the situation where he had to watch his loved ones being hurt and having them being forcefully taken away.

They both travelled a couple days alone after their losses before they found each other. Yao was doing a food and supply run when he found Ivan huddled in the corner of a shop, crying. After they both explained what had happened to them, they decided to join together and travel to Berlin as partners.

"Remember, Germany told us to report to his capital if anything were to happen." Yao had re-informed Ivan when their paths first crossed. "Now, since we are travelling to the same place, it'll only make sense if we go together. Don't you agree, aru?" Ivan had reponded with a simple approval to the idea. The loss of his family had been tough on him, and Yao took note of that.

...

"You do not need to sleep if you cannot." Yao said in almsot a whisper. His eyes scanned the area outside again, no biters to be seen. Seeing how they were okay in that moment of time, Yao got up from his post by the window and walked over to Ivan.

"I am much tired, but much awake." Ivan said softly, pulling his knees up to his chest. His violet eyes started to gloss over with tears, which wasn't uncommon for him anymore. He had been crying an awful lot since the start. The Chinese man sat down beside the Russian and sighed.

"I know, aru. I am feeling the same way, but you should at least get some sleep. I've slept a couple hours earlier, so I am fine. You, however, haven't slept for a while." Ivan shook his head at Yao's words, burying his face in his arms.

"I-I am not wanting to see them." He mumbled, his voice cracking. In _them_ Yao knew he meant his sisters. Often times when the Russian managed to gain sleep, he would awake screaming from nightmares of seeing his sisters being ripped apart. Just the thought of it, awake or not, could make him breakdown.

After a moment of thought on the action, Yao wrapped his arms around the Russian, holding him close in a comforting manner. "Shhh, its alright." He whispered while rubbing Ivan's arm. "I know, its hard. Such things cannot be easily forgotten."

Ivan leaned into his embrace, burying his face in Yao's chest. He craved sleep, he wanted it so badly. However the thought of reliving his sisters' death was too much for him to bare. "I'm tired... but sleep doesn't want me." Faint walking and growls could be heard outside. Biters had come by once again. A soft whimper escaped Ivan's lips at the sound as he buried himself even more into Yao's arms.

"There, there." Yao said in a calm voice. He gently stroked Ivan's hair as he held him closer. "Don't be afraid. They won't hurt you inside here, just go to sleep. Sleep is every man's essential need. If we do not gain what we need, we won't have the strength to carry on. Close your eyes, Ivan, and obtain what you need." A few tears rolled down Ivan's cheeks as he closed his eyes. Yao was right, sleep was what he needed. But how could he receive something that did not want to be given to him.

As if reading his mind, Yao began to hum a soft, simple tune, one that would usually be played for a little baby.

"小白兔乖乖 把门儿开开

快点开开 我要进来

不开不开不能开 妈妈没回来

不能把门开"

He sang each word with as much gentleness and purity he could muster. It was a popular song from his country, one he would usually sing for Kiku when he was little. Smiling at the nostalgic and sad memories, Yao continued his song.

Ivan's eyes began to droop tiredly at the lullaby, peaceful sleep soon taking over. Yao's lullaby softened his distressed, frightened heart and made him fall into a sweet dream, one that would not make a horrific turn to the harshness of reality. The Russian was soon sleepily limp in Yao's arms, still holding on to him in a weak embrace.

"Sweet dreams, Ivan..." Yao whispered as he concluded his song. He brushed away the loose strands of his beige hair out of his face, grinning softly. Ivan's fearful expression relaxed as a small smile tugged at his lips. "May your child-like heart finally get some rest."

Sighing, Yao rested his head back against the wooden walls, Ivan sleeping peacefully in his lap. How many days would it take to get to Berlin? How many miles must they walk? How will they get there? _Will_ they get there? ... Yao shook that question out of his mind.

 _We will get to Berlin. Ivan and I both. The others will be there. We need to meet up with them... I wonder how many are left. Who else fell? Who will greet us at Berlin?_

The biter outside was now scratching at the window to his right, it's dead growls muffled behind the glass. Yao closed his eyes and listened to the biter.

 _Is this how the world will be now? Are these the new humans, and we are the livestock?_

 _ **A/N: Heyyy so, just to clear things up.**_

 _ **The song China was singing to Russia was a Chinese nursery rhyme called "Little White Rabbits".**_

 _ **I thought it fit better since it's canon that Russia still has a child-like demeanour.**_

 _ **Anyways! I hope you liked this, and comment your opinions!**_


	4. Ribbons -Sweden & Finland-

Silence.

That's what was spoken as Tino and Berwald trudged the empty dirt path. The sun had just risen on what seemed like the hundredth day of silence. When was the last time a memorable conversation was made between them? What day was it? Or should they ask, how many weeks has it been? It certainly felt more than a few days.

Berwald walked ahead of Tino, leading the way to wherever they may be going. Their destination, same as everyone, was Berlin. Fortunately for them, they had been visiting Denmark at the time of the breakout so they were quite close to their safe haven. However, distance seemed to be the least of their problems.

"Tino." Berwald broke the silence with the dullness of his voice. He stopped walking as Tino did the same. They had paused to look at an old school yard. It had been raided and such by others who had come by. The windows were shattered and the doors were ajar. It appeared empty on the outside, but inside was always a different story.

"Let's go in." Tino replied as he took the lead now. His tone was emotionless and empty. Berwald watched him go first as he soon followed. Oh how he wished to see the old Tino again. How he wished to see him smile and laugh without a care in the world. How he wished for him to be happy. But no, that was not so. It hadn't been so ever since...

 _Knock knock_

Tino pounded his fist on the wall of the schoolhouse and waited patiently to see if any biters responded to the call. There was none. Seeing how the coast was clear, the smaller male stepped inside. Berwald followed in behind him.

The halls were torn and vacant. Desks and papers lay scattered on the scratched wooden floors. Occasional blood smeared the walls, not uncommon to see now. Classrooms were broken into, their doors hanging off its hinges. Tino walked slowly through the halls and peered into every crook or corner. Berwald watched him closely, making sure he didn't let anything dangerous pass him by. After doing the first surroundings check, they relaxed their weapons and entered one of the classrooms.

"So little." Berwald exclaimed as they entered what appeared to be an elementary school classroom. The tables were circular and all the chairs seemed like a dolls in his eyes. Colouring sheets and supplies littered the floor. The old chalkboard had dusty chalk smeared across it. It looked as if there had been a tornado sweeping through. Tino examined everything slowly, his eyes darted from one table to another.

"I don't see anything we could use." He spoke as he prodded a book with the tip of his dagger. Blood still coated the handle of the blade. Who's blood that was, Tino never spoke their name.

They roamed around the other classrooms to gather supplies they may need. To their misfortune, the only supplies they managed to snag was an empty school bag, some sharp scissors, and a few books. Supplies were hard to find now due to the fact most places had already been raided by others. However that never stopped the two from looking. Who knows what someone may have left behind.

After a few more minutes or so, they decided there was nothing left worthy to obtain. As they were walking towards the exit, Berwald caught a glimpse of something waving attached to the fence outside.

"Look." He pointed out the item to Tino. It appeared to be blue and white in the distance; the exact description of what it is was unclear. The two men exited the school house approached the item.

It was a blue ribbon with a single white stripe in the middle tethered to the fence. The blue resembled the colour of the ocean, the white line could be shown as a symbol of the ocean's calm foam. It was alone where it was tied, no other ribbon nor object could be seen near it. Tino's eyes widened at the sight of such a ribbon.

"N-No." He mumbled as he turned away. He put a hand to his head and lightly grabbed a fistful of his hair. The sight the silk fabric brought unpleasant thoughts to his mind. It brought the image of laughing boy to his mind. A boy with short blonde hair and blue eyes. A boy with a bright smile and a big heart. A boy he was trying so hard to forget.

"Sorry." Berwald said softly, regretting ever pointing out such a thing. He knew how much the loss effected Tino. He knew how much different he became because of such an event. The Swedish man slowly reached over and untied the delicate fabric, freeing it from the fence.

"Get rid of it, please." Tino murmured into his hands. His legs were trembling along with his arms. His violet eyes wide, staring into the palms of his hands. No, he mustn't succumb. No, he must keep his mental state of mind. He mustn't break, again. Berwald nodded and walked off to dispose of the ribbon. Instead of throwing it away, he stuffed it into one of his dirt caked pockets. Tino may want to forget the past, however he did not.

Returning back to Tino, Berwald found him breathing heavily and clutching his head. The words, "I must not" and "everything is fine" repeated over and over under his breath. The Finnish man's violet eyes were brimming with tears as they stared into the space before him. Nothing was there.

"Shh." Berwald said calmly as he faced the smaller male. "It's okay. It's okay. Calm down, please." Tino blinked a couple times and looked up at Berwald. His eyes were wide and the look he gave him was broken. His mouth, slightly agape, issued soft words that he used to try and reassure himself. After a few more minutes, Tino managed to recollect himself and released his hold on his hair. His breathing relaxed as well as he regained his hold on his dagger.

"Come on, let's go." The Finnish man motioned as he made his way out of the schoolyard. His mood could go from breaking down to hard as stone in seconds. That's something Berwald noticed ever since their family had been shortened. Ever since that boy left their company. Ever since that boy was eaten before their eyes. Ever since their wake up to this new world.

 _Don't worry, Tino. We're going to make it to Berlin. We both will make it. I know it, we just have to keep going._

 _We just have to survive a little longer._

 **A/N:**

 **'Kay, sorry if this chapter sucked compared to the others. I wanted to make sure I updated for you guys!**

 **I promise, future chapters will be waaaay better than this one.**

 **I believe this is the end to my introductions of the main characters**

 **So the real story and such will begin in the next chapter!**

 **Hope you like it!**

 **Please leave feedback in the comments!**


	5. Voices -France & England-

Another week passed and the Frenchman and Brit gradually made progress towards Berlin. It was still ways away, but they were getting there. Supplies were running low and restocks on their guns might as well be non existent. The search for Alfred and Matthew still went on, so far leaving them hopeless.

"We'll find them soon, I promise." Francis said one night as Arthur lay in his arms. He had been silently crying, dreading the fact that they may or may not be dead. Maybe they should just face those facts..

"Don't make promises you have no chance in keeping." The Brit sniffled. He looked up and around at where they were. They had found an abandoned corner shop which held a few leftover nonperishable foods and equipment. Yes, the equipment had been a shovel and kitchen utensils, but they were still good. There were ways to make use of such things. Arthur sat up and wiped at his eyes.

 _Alfred... Matthew... Where are you? I just want to make sure you're alright. I would never forgive myself if you both were..._

Arthur ceased to continue such a thought.

 _No, I musn't think such things. They will be alright. Francis said we'll find them, and we will._

"Come." The gentleman said suddenly, getting to his feet. He grabbed his knife from his pocket and began to walk towards the entrance of the shop.

"What? We're going out now? At night?!" Francis seemed apalled at the idea of roaming around in the almost pitch black dark. How would they see if a biter came by? Arthur turned to him and merely waved a hand, motioning for him to follow.

"Let's go, I have a strange feeling there are people out there." Before the Frenchman could argue, Arthur slipped out into the dead of night.

Outside was, as expected, dark making it nearly impossible to see. Faintly, the growls and groans of the biters could be heard but they were all far away; not a threat to them now.

"Cher, I don't see why we are out here tonight." Francis exclaimed, following Arthur over to the shops nearby.

"Must you need an explanation for every damn thing I do?" Arthur retorted rather hotly. "I don't know why, but I have a strange feeling someone is here. I guess my magical powers haven't completely worn off." A scoff came from his partner as they examined the shops through their windows.

"Oui, like you ever had any-"

 _Shatter_

The sound of breaking glass was heard in a shop to their left. Francis immediately quit speaking and put a hand over his knife. Movement like shuffling feet were made clear from the interior of the place. Arthur moved in without hesitation.

The interior of the shop was almost pitch black, making it nearly impossible to see. The only source of light was from the moon outside. It provided very little and silhouetted Arthur moving stealthily. He kept his ears perked up for any movement. Some shuffling sounds could be heard the more in he went.

"Wh-Who's there?" He called out, raising his pistol in which he had hid carefully in his back pocket. No answer, only more shuffling. It was indeed a biter. The sound couldn't be inferred as anything else. However, a shadow might influence someone's idea of what the sound was. A shadow certainly did that with a certain Brit.

Curled and up right it casted a dark shadow on the wall. It could be mistaken as a curl on someone's head. Some would describe it as a crescent shape, others a banana shape. Either way it shown the same.

Arthur lowered his weapon, a sheer ray of hope rising in him.

"Alfred?" The Englishman walked closer to the being's shadow, lowering all walls of defence. "Is it you?" Francis squinted through the dark and caught sight of the being before Arthur. It was most definitely not Alfred. It was a biter who's shadow resembled much of Alfred's. Arthur, however, did not notice this and took even more steps so he was dangerously close to the flesh eating being.

"Arthur! Get away!" The Frenchman hissed, stumbling over a few overturned objects to get to Arthur. The Brit didn't seem to hear him. He finally backed out of his daydream like state just when the biter growled at him. He froze, hand shaking as he tried to grasp the pistol. The biter drew closer, its decaying arms outstretched to grab hold of Arthur.

"A-Arthur!" Francis now shouted as he tried his best to get to him. Arthur snapped out of his trance just as the biter knocked him down on the floor. He fell on his back as he tried his best to push off the biter. Its jaw snapped and snarled at the Brit. Everything seemed to freeze. The biter on top of him began to draw closer... its mouth coming dangerously to Arthur's face... the distance between them—

 _Bang_

Dead weight suddenly collapsed onto Arthur. A large hole was seen on the back of its head, rotten brains oozed out. Francis stood above them with his own handgun directed towards the once again lifeless being. Arthur relaxed his arms from holding up the biter and sighed. Silence engulfed them again.

"Are you okay?" Francis asked, breaking the silence. He knelt down and pushed the biter off of Arthur. The Brit closed his eyes and shook his head, remaining on the floor.

"I thought it was him." The words escaped his lip in a shaky manner. Tears seeped through his closed eyes and fell down the sides of his face. "I-I thought it was..." The next words transitioned into soft sobs. Arthur raised an arm to cover his face as his cries continued.

"Shh, Shh I know." Francis comforted soothingly. He crawled closer to him and brushed away some of his choppy blonde hair. "Don't cry, mon amour. We will find them; I promise. Alfred and Matthew will be with us again. So, please. Do not cry." Arthur lowered his arm and stared up at the Frenchman with teary eyes. He slowly slipped his hand in Francis' and held it tightly.

"D-Do you think so?" He asked for reassurance.

"Oui, I am sure." Francis replied with a smile. Their eyes locked together for a long while before Arthur broke it with a sigh.

"Alright, help me up will you?" The Brit questioned as he pushed himself up in a sitting position. A quiet wince escaped him as he did so, influenced by the minor injuries in his back. Apparently when he fell to the floor, he landed on the shattered fragments of a mirror. "Bloody hell, this hurts."

"Would you like for me to carry you?" Francis suggested, pained to see Arthur hurt. The Brit opened his mouth to oppose but soon let out a breath and complied.

"Yes, please." He mumbled, looking up at the Frenchman. Francis beamed happily and slipped his arms underneath his legs and behind his back. Slowly, he hauled him up and began to walk out the shop.

"You know," Francis exclaimed as they walked back to their shelter, "this is just like a fairy tale. I, the handsome prince, rescue a maiden in distress, you, and carry her off into happily ever after." The obnoxious French laugh rang in Arthur's ears, causing him to turn a shade of red.

"Shut up, imbecile." He grumbled, shifting a bit in his position. "Don't say such things as that in a time like this." Anything that brought up memories of the past and its joys sent Arthur into a depressed state. He ached for the past where they could carefree without having to constantly fight for their lives. The past seemed like a dream now; it once was there but was taken away from the harsh reality.

"Angleterre," Francis addressed him as he did when they both were countries. (No one was named as a country anymore. Those didn't exist now.), "when all of this is over, let's go drinking again. You can get drunk off your ass as I laugh into my wine cup." He chuckled lightly at the memories of them drinking. All either ended in disaster or tears; no in between. Arthur stared down at the request. Would this ever be over?

"I guess I will take you up on that offer." The gentleman sighed, closing his eyes. "It is not like I have a choice, anyways. You always tend to make me go drinking no matter what my answer is." Arthur rested his head against Francis' chest. A heartbeat soon met his ears, causing him to relax. Francis had a strong heart. It was loud and endearing. The mere sound of it reassured Arthur that he was not alone. That heartbeat... he wished that he would never have to hear that heart cease to beat.


	6. What's Done Is Done -Sweden & Finland-

Another silent day, however this one was a bit different from the multiple ones prior. Tino and Berwald were hiding out in a small shack out in the forest. They'd hidden in there when an unexpected herd droned by. Luckily, they got inside right before they came into sight.

Now, they were sitting side-by-side in a cramped shack, listening to the howling wind outside. The only sound other than the wind was the clinking of Tino's gun as he cleaned it up. Berwald watched him, studying his features and motions. The look on the Finnish man's face was nothing and unmoving, as if he were a sculpted from stone. His hand movements weren't graceful nor delicate as they usually were. Now, his hands rubbed hard at the filth which caked his gun and roughly assembled the gun once more. Such different movements, such different emotions. It didn't fit well with Tino at all.

"I think they're gone." Berwald mumbled, listening intently to the world outside. 2No crunching leaves or deathly growls were heard, which therefore proves what he was inferring. Tino merely gave a quick glance around their closed shack and clicked his gun back into its completeness. The look on his face remained hard and unfeeling.

"We stay here." Tino replied dully, glancing up at Berwald. The appearance of his face and body language was nothing compared to the look in his eyes. Those eyes which used to be so alive. Those eyes which used to shine bright like the northern lights. Those eyes which used to resemble jolly Christmas lights twinkling happily with life. Those eyes... which now shown dull and lifeless as if all the lights had died out. It was as if someone had blown out the candle and destroyed the main source of life.

Berwald missed the old Tino. He missed his happy voice that could be compared to a little, silver bell. He missed his happy 'wife' who always smiled at the littlest of things around him. Would he ever see that Tino again? Would things ever be the same? Or did this empty-hearted, broken man permanently take over?

"Tino," the Swedish man said, turning towards the Finnish male, "do you remember wh-"

"No." Tino interrupted quickly, not wishing to hear anymore. "I don't want to talk about it." Talk about the past, especially about _him_ , Tino tried to avoid. Anything that was related to such things brought up unpleasant memories and emotions that he wished to keep hidden. He believed if he held it in long enough, it would slowly go away. Berwald knew all this but he knew Tino just didn't want to face the facts. He knew he just wanted to forget it or refuse to accept the things that occurred. Some day Tino will have to accept it all, but as of right now, he was not.

"We would assemble furniture together." Berwald continued, ignoring what Tino said. No matter what, he would bring up old memories. It soothed him, and he wanted to try to bring back the old Tino. He wanted to bring back the old times and talks he used to have with him. "I would do most of the work while you would read aloud the instructions. Whenever I hurt myself, you would kiss where it hurt to make it feel better.."

This time, Tino didn't interrupt. He merely listened but mentally beat himself up for not being strong enough to block out his lover's words. No. Don't listen. You can't listen-

"Sometimes we'd spend whole days making furniture." Berwald looked down as he spoke. "By the time the sun set, I had wood shavings all over my front. You would be laughing and cleaning it up. Peter would-"

"Shut up!" Tino screamed, putting his hands once again to his head. His fingers entangled with his hair, gently pulling on it. "D-Don't.. Say.. His name.."

Berwald closed his mouth, looking over at the disturbed Fin. He forgot that that name was meant to be unsaid. That name was forever triggering to Tino. Anytime _that name_ was mentioned, it sent the Finnish man's nerves on edge and fractured his currently unstable mentality. However, Berwald couldn't help himself from saying that name. He missed him. He missed that boy very much, and he knew Tino deep down missed him too. They both did, but both confronted the situation in different ways.

Berwald looked over and sighed. "Sorry. I forgo-"

"He's dead, Berwald. He's dead!" Tino snapped, digging his fingers even more into his head. "The past is dead. _He_ is dead! Stop talking about what is dead! I don't want to hear it! I don't! There's no point in talking about what or who isn't alive anymore!" Ragged breathing escaped him as he, once again, tried to regain himself. He could feel himself shattering every time someone mentioned such things. Each word about the past and _him_ added onto the many cracks on his body and mind. It'll only take time before he breaks...

"Tino, please." Berwald said, raising a hand and gingerly placing it on the Finnish man's back. "Calm down. It's okay. We're going to be ok-"

"How do you know?!" The Fin turned sharply to the larger man, eyes wide with fear. "You can't say everything will be okay! You don't know! Nothing is okay! Don't tell me lies! How can you assure me it will all be fine?! Can you tell me that?! No! We're not going to be okay! We're never going to be okay!" He broke off, breathing fast and heavy. No, keep yourself together. Don't succumb to it. Don't give in. Stay strong, Tino, stay strong. You got this.

"I don' know." The words were gentle and calm, something new Berwald learnt during this whole apocalypse. "What I do know, is that as long as you're with me, you're going to be okay." Tino's wide eyes stared before him, hands still roughly gripping at his own hair. It was only common now for him to do such a thing. His breathing came out ragged and unsettled, along with his own heartbeat which thundered in his ears. Such nerve-wracking sounds which chilled his already sensitive bones.

 _"Dad?"_

Tino's breathing hitched at the call. Could it be? Was it...

 _"Dad!"_

The voice was clear to his ears and matched-

"Peter?" Tino called out, eyes unblinking. Berwald furrowed his brows in confusion. What was his partner thinking? Why did he say the name which he thought was forbidden to say? Obviously, the call of the boy was only heard in Tino's mind, making it a hallucination. Only him alone could hear the unreal call of their late son.

 _"Dad! It's cold out here!"_

"I-I'm coming, Peter!" Tino called, pushing himself up suddenly from off of the shack floor. His breathing quickened again as he stared at the closed door before him. He had to go out there. Peter was calling him. He had to go to Peter's aid.

"Tino wait-!" Berwald tried to stop the Finnish man from going out there. It was too dangerous to run out blindly, especially when night had fallen. Danger lurked everywhere and running out without a thought could cost a life. Just the thought of doing such a thing was an idiotic thought. However, before the Swedish man could do anything, Tino ran into the dead of night. "Wait!"

Suddenly, two noises rang in Berwald's ears.

First, was the sound of a gun going off.

Second, was a blood curdling scream.

"Tino!"

 **Author's Note:**

 **Wow. Okay, I am so so so sorry for the extremely late update. I've been so busy and going through major writer's block. I apologise if this chapter seemed a bit off. I wrote it at 3am soooooo**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and the next chapter should be up quicker, aha!**

 **Please leave feedback in the comments/reviews! Thank you!**


	7. Don't Look Back -Russia & China-

_Patter Patter_

Ivan and Yao dashed through the forest, panting heavily. There was a herd of biters hobbling after them at a surprising speed that seemed to pick up by the second. It was mid-day so thankfully there was light to provide them a way to navigate through the trees. Unfortunately, the both of them had been running low on supplies so they were not in the best condition for excessive usage of their precious energy.

"Ivan, hurry!" Yao shouted, his eyes darting left and right to find somewhere they could hide. Ivan ran behind the Chinese man, his speed dropping at every stride. He panted heavily as adreneline ran through his veins. The thundering feet of the herd behind him grew louder and louder to his ears. Where would they go? There isn't any place in sight? They were done for. Truly done for.

"Yao!" Ivan's violet eyes locked on what appeared to be an old cabin in a small clearing. It seemed sturdy which was good against a herd. Yao caught sight of the cabin and nodded. It was some ways away but he knew they could make it. They had to. The Russian mustered up all the energy he could find in his wary body to make it to the cabin. Thoughts bounced around his mind the closer they got to the building.

 _What if we don't make it? They're coming close... I can hear them... Their footsteps shake the ground beneath me... I'm not going to make it. I can't do this. I won't-_

Suddenly, as if death desired him greatly, Ivan felt his foot trample over a tree root on the forest floor, causing him to fall forward.

"Ah! Yao!" Ivan cried out, now lying face down on the dirt. His arms shook as he tried to push himself back to his feet. Yao's eyes widen as he quickly made a turn to go help his fallen friend. Just as the Chinese male got to the Russian, a biter snarled and grabbed at Ivan's ankle. At the feel of its bony fingers digging into him, Ivan screamed.

 _It has me. This is it. This is the end for me-_

Clash

The sound of bone breaking shattered his 'last minute' thoughts and hand which grabbed Ivan now laid limp on the floor, detached from the owner which it once was connected to. Yao stood above, holding a blood coated sword which he always hid so carefully around his back. Without saying another word, the Chinese man grabbed Ivan by the arm and dragged him back to his feet. And off running they went.

"We're not going to make it." Ivan cried, tears falling down his cheeks. He didn't even realise he had begun to bawl as he ran. Maybe it was when he fell that was when he began to cry. Nonetheless, the tears flowed and dripped down his chin. Yao huffed and ran beside him, frequently looking back at the biters behind. Due to the minor set back, they had grown closer to the two humans.

"We are going to make it, aru!" Yao shouted back, handing Ivan a knife. A look of determination shot past his eyes. "Don't give up. No matter what obstacles show, big or small, do not let it intimidate you. Keep your head and spirits high and you can over come anything." A strong smile spread across his lips. Such a strong smile from a former strong nation. A smile which had been shone through the ages from even before most people were born.

"D-Do you thinks so?" Ivan asked softly, the cabin coming closer. He wondered how Yao could stay optimistic about the situation they were in. How he could provide such good advice and motivation as death was crawling up behind him. Yao smiled even greater and nodded.

"Yes, Ivan. We will make it." He let out a soft chuckle. "We will make it to the cabin. It's right there! Keep your eyes forward to the future; the future is always bright. No matter what you do, don't lose sight of your goal. Remember that, Ivan. Don't- Ack!"

Yao was suddenly cut short as teeth pierced through his right shoulder. A biter dug its teeth even deeper into his shoulder, causing a breakage of crimson to spread across his clothing. Ivan's eyes widened at the sight of his wounded partner, more tears welling up in his eyes. Quickly, he raised the knife Yao had handed him and stabbed it through its skull. Yao shoved it off of him once it was lifeless once more and stumbled forward.

The cabin was was finally there.

Once they got to the cabin Yao collapsed against the wall. Blood drenched the right side of his body as the bite in his shoulder shown clear to those who were there to behold it.

"Y-Yao, we have to get inside!" Ivan pleaded, dropping to his knees beside Yao. He looked towards the cabin door. It was so close to them. Only a few more steps and they would be safe inside. The group of biters were ways away but were coming closer by the second. If they didn't get inside quickly, they would be done for.

"No.." Yao said, shutting his eyes tightly due to the pain. He looked up at the Russian and shakily got to his feet. "Go. Get inside. I'll be in there shortly." He leaned against the wall of the cabin and stared at the approaching biters. The bite on his shoulder signified his fate. Once bitten, once injured, there was no going back. Yao knew he wouldn't be able to make it due to this, but he wasn't going to tell Ivan that. No, he had to make sure he was okay before he did anything. "Go, I'll be fine. I just need to catch my breath."

"Yao," Ivan begged again, taking a step towards the door but not taking his eyes off of the Chinese man. He wasn't about to leave him there but the biters were coming closer, "The door is righ-"

"Get inside, aru!" Yao shouted, using his uninjured arm to shove the Russian towards the door. He swayed as he did so but forced a crooked smile. "Get inside. Trust me. I will be there in a bit." The sound of growling and snarling increased to their ears as the biters drew near. Their time was running out. Ivan had to go now or die alongside Yao. There was nothing else to do.

Reluctantly, the Russian backed up and grabbed his hand at the doorknob. Before pushing it open, he gave one last look at Yao. Despite the eternal bleeding in his shoulder and the acceptance of death, the man still smiled and stayed strong through it all. No sign of weakness was shown nor anything related to defeat. He was still standing tall and would do so to the very last moment.

"Hurry." Ivan mumbled quickly before opening the door. Yao made sure he closed it before he made his next moves. The Chinese man gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and limped straight towards the herd of biters.

 _I've lived a long life... longer than I should have. Many nations had fallen before me while I stood tall. I never thought that my death day would come. The mere thought of it seemed impossible. But that was not so. Every living being and thing must come to an end. It is the way of life._

Yao slashed at the biters who came near him, having them drop dead before him. Some managed to grab a bite at his unprotected body, but that didn't stop him. One by one they fell before him as his sword ripped through the air.

 _Vietnam... Hong Kong... Taiwan... Japan... Korea... I will soon be with you once more. Just wait for me a little longer. I must stand just a little longer..._

Soon, Yao lost all energy to hold up his sword and let it fall to the ground. Three biters left out of the dozen which were slain. The Chinese man never failed to leave the battlefield in victory. Ah but now, now he must give in to his predators and let them devour what they came after.

 _Goodbye, Earth. At last, I shall fall onto your soil and disappear along with the others. I've seen so many die in my years of living. Soon, I shall experience what they went through and die along with them... I am proud of the life I have lived._

Suddenly, a scream tore through the air as biters snapped at their prey. Ivan felt his heart stop as the scream pierced through his ears. That scream was Yao's. It wasn't a scream of terror nor was it a scream of anger. It was a scream of defeat.

He had fallen. The great and eldest country, China, had fallen at last.

Ivan turned to the door to run out and get to the dying nation. No, this couldn't be happening. Yao couldn't be dead. He couldn't! He was China! He was going to come inside just as he said he would. There was nothing-

Suddenly, Ivan felt but felt a hand grab his arm. It wasn't a dead hand, no it was certainly living because it was warm. The hand was gentle as it made contact with the Russian, as if not to hurt or startle him. Then, the person spoke.

"There's nothing you can do, Sere. He's already gone. You'll be safe in here, Mr. Russia."

Ivan froze. He knew that voice. How could he forget that voice?

"Toris?"

 **Author's Note:**

 **Oh my, wow, okay this one seems rushed.**

 **I'm sorry, I was trying to fit everything in it and now it seems rushed.**

 **Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **Please don't forget to leave me your comments/reviews! I love to hear them! Thank you!**


	8. So Close -France & England-

_Snip snip_

The sound of a pair of scissors echoed across the still room. Arthur closed his eyes as Francis' gentle fingers brushed away some of his hair. The Frenchman was, just like how he always did, cutting the Briton's hair. A mere trimming, nothing that fancy. The "word" fancy didn't really hold any meaning in the world now. It was simply a word, nothing else.

Arthur winced softly when Francis cut a tuft of hair from his bangs. "Did I hurt you, mon Cher?" He questioned, putting a pause on his cutting. The Briton shook his head.

"No... You didn't hurt me at all." Arthur mumbled, lowering his head. "It's just... The last time you did this was when I came home drunk." The Brit paused as a sad smile curled his lips. "You were worried and sitting at the kitchen table since it was extremely late. I was being an idiot and rambled on about who knows what that night."

Francis smiled nostalgically, the memory of that night coming into his mind. It seemed so long ago and so much had changed since then...

"I ended up falling into one of the kitchen chairs, sobbing hysterically because I was remembering what I said to you the night prior. We always argued back then..."Arthur sighed, eyes dulling as the memory played out like an old black-and-white movie. "You had come up behind me where I sat and gently stroked my hair, telling me it was alright and you didn't take anything personally. Nonetheless, I continued to cry like a baby while you continued to comfort me... A-And, you whispered your loving words-" Arthur's voice cracked as he recalled, his eyes growing glossy with tears.

"I whispered, 'Je T'aime, Arthur. Nothing you can say will wound nor hurt me and my heart. My love for you is forevermore and nothing can change that. I'm yours forever, until this old heart ceases to beat.'" Francis finished Arthur's talk, smiling softly as he began to cut away at his hair again. "I remember that night very well. After your little crying scene, you randomly begged me to cut your hair just like how I did when you were younger. At that time, your hair was a neater mess than the mess you have on now." Francis let out a light chuckle. Arthur remained where he sat, staring downwards at his lap.

Both had different ways of dealing with change and past memories. Francis embraced them and enjoyed looking back at the good times and having those old feelings reborn once more. Arthur, on the other hand, didn't enjoy the thought of looking back. Looking back drew out pain and aching for the past. It reminded him of how horrible life was now and how he had no idea where his family is (as in Alfred and Matthew) and how he would never be able to revisit those grand times back when everything was good.

 _Thud Thud_

Growls and noises from the undead were made clear by the front door, their voices muffled through the solid wood. The Briton flinched at the sound, cringing as it rang in his ears. He hated that sound. He hated biters. He hated the world he lived in now. He wanted it all to go back to where it was. Francis sighed and set down his rusty scissors beside Arthur's feet.

"I'll go get rid of them." The Frenchman said reassuringly, looking over at the Englishman. "It sounds like one so it'll be over before you know it." Arthur nodded slowly, narrowing eyes over at the door. Francis pulled out his trusty knife from his back pocket and walked towards the entrance. He'd killed so many biters now that the thought of killing another one was like nothing. It was like someone having to kill a spider and not thinking back at it when it was over.

He made it towards the door and opened it up, expecting to see one biter. What he received was completely different. When Francis revealed the outside, about five biters came growling and snapping their jaws at him.

"A-Arthur, move away!" Francis shouted, attempting to shut the door to no avail. The biters already had their arms and faces outstretched through the crack of the door. They wanted to get in and Francis knew that they might have their way. Arthur jumped up from his seat, eyes narrowing.

"I'm not just going to have you go against them all!" Arthur retorted, stepping over to the door with his hand wrapping around his own knife. Francis hissed over at him, "Non! I don't want you getting hurt! Don't worry, I got them!" He truly believe that he had the ability and strength to go against them, but of course love distorts someone's views. Francis didn't want Arthur in danger so he put himself in front of it to shield the Briton from it all. Was this smart? Not quite. Was that going to stop him? Not in the slightest.

"Don't you bloody dare attempt to go on your own!" Arthur said, quite appalled that Francis would suggest such a thing. The Frenchman grunted as he continued to try and hold back the biters. The Briton took another step forward toward the man but was immediately shoved backwards.

"Arthur, just go to the farthest wall and stay there!" The blonde said, arms shaking. "I'll hold them off and if any come your way you'll have time to fi-"

Francis' words were cut off when a bony hand grabbed his ankle, making him fall backwards on the floor. The door was pushed open to its full extent as biters trampled in.

"F-Francis!" Arthur cried out, stabbing quickly as biters made their way towards him. They all corrupted his view on Francis, making it impossible to tell if he was alright. No sound came from the Frenchman. He wasn't screaming or letting out any signs of pain. Was that good? That means he wasn't hurt, right? Then why isn't he returning Arthur's shouts?

The Brit stumbled backwards as a biter stretched out a flesh peeling hand in attempts to grab Arthur. It was hopeless. There were too many. This was a herd, not a stray biter that they expected. This was completely different... Usually they would be more alert when opening doors and exposing themselves to danger, but at that moment they were experiencing nostalgia and, for a brief moment, carried the feelings and security they felt when the world hadn't turn to shit.

With a final stab to the head, Arthur drove his knife into the biter's forehead, immediately sending dead weight down to the ground. He panted and stood up, looking about the shop. There were dead bodies everywhere. It trailed from the entrance to where Arthur was and even leading outside. Francis... was not in the shop.

"F-Francis?.." Arthur called out, his voice cracking slightly. He took a shaky step over a dead biter and began walking towards the door. Was he outside? Maybe he led them outside... "Francis? Wh-Where are you?"

No answer.

The Briton felt his heart pound against his ears at every passing second he walked towards the door. What will he see outside? Will Francis greet him? Will he be there? Or will he be...

Arthur peeked his head outside of the shop, hands shaking. He gulped and called out, "F-Francis? For Pete's sake, answer back will you? Th-There's no more biters inside.." Again, no answer. The Englishman felt a chill run through him as he began to think of the unwanted assumptions. What if he was... no.. No, he couldn't be. That wasn't like Francis. He wouldn't allow himself to die in such a way. He would've made it elaborate and flamboyant such as his personality. Desperate now, Arthur called out again.

"F-Francis!" Arthur said, his voice cracking at the thought of his beloved dead crossed his mind. "Francis please answer me!" Silence was all that was spoken after Arthur's plea. It was almost as if the world had frozen in time and Arthur was the only one moving. That he was the only one alive on Earth. That only he could be the one to make a living movement...

Suddenly, footsteps were heard from around the corner of the little shelter they were in. Arthur whipped around and saw Francis stumbling over to him, his clothes coated with dirt and blood.

"F-Francis!" Arthur exclaimed, running over and immediately wrapping his arms around the man and burying his face in his chest. Francis' eyes widened as he let out a light laugh and hugged back. His laugh faltered a bit when he heard muffled sobs break against his chest.

"Arthur?... Why are you crying?" The Frenchman questioned, looking at the Englishman. Arthur shook his head vigorously as more loud cries escaped his lips. After a moment, he looked over at Francis with tear-filled emerald eyes.

"I-I thought you bloody died!" The Briton shouted, his voice breaking underneath the weight of his tears. "Y-You didn't answer back a-and I didn't kn-know where you were! I th-thought you were k-killed and I w-would've never g-gotten to say g-goodbye or s-save you and I-I would never be able to l-live with myself if that happened because I care s-so much about y-you and- you're s-such a bloody git for s-scaring me like that!" Arthur broke into hysterics once more, his tears mixing in with the filth on Francis' shirt. The Frenchman looked down and hugged Arthur back tightly, reassuring him that he was right there with him.

"Shh... Don't cry, Angleterre." Francis said in a soft, gentle voice. He wiped some of Arthur tears out of his face and brushed some hair away as well. "You don't have to worry about that, okay? I'm alive and well now, and I'm not leaving you anytime soon..." The Frenchman planted a light kiss on the Brit's head, smiling as he did so.

That was a somewhat lie, and Francis knew it. No, he wasn't killed or eaten by the biters... but he was scratched. Francis glanced down at his palm. A deep cut bled a little stream of blood that dripped onto the floor. Quickly, he turned his palm over so Arthur couldn't see it.

When one is bit, scratched, or in any way exposed to a biter, it's only a matter of time before they walk the path of death.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Wow! A whole month's passed since my last update. I'm so sorry for the wait. I've been working on my Lonely Sunflower one w**

 **Anyways, I hope you like this chapter!**  
 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews!**


	9. Bunnies and Eggs -Russia & Lithuania-

It was mid-afternoon and the light outside filed through the blinds, casting thin rays of the sun on the wooden floorboards. Not much illuminated the interior of the cabin, but that didn't matter. Light was the least of their problems.

Ivan sat in the corner of the room, hugging his knees to his chest. Dried blood smeared on his cheek. Violet eyes were dull and stared at the empty wall before them. The Russian hadn't moved from that spot ever since the Lithuanian had taken him in. The memories of what took place were still fresh in his mind. His family was gone, now Yao was gone too. It was fully settling in.

Toris stood before him, leaning against the wall. Currently, he was cleaning the blade of his pocketknife with an old handkerchief he had found in an abandoned car. Not much was said between the two ever since the death of Yao and the return of the old master and servant. Ivan remained silent and dulled due to the loss of yet another person he cared about. Loss was so much more frequent now in the world.

"Berlin is ways away, but I'm sure we'll reach there soon if we travel at a steady pace..." Toris broke the silent with his soft voice, looking over at the Russian. Green eyes coated with gentleness and purity which was so hard to find nowadays. Even through these times, the Lithuanian's demeanor never changed. "That's where you were headed, right? All nations are heading there so I would be surprised if you weren't."

No answer came from the Russian. Ivan merely sat there, hugging his knees tighter to his chest. If it wasn't for his slight movement of his shoulders from his breathing someone could mistake him for a statue. What was the point in moving anyways? Everything had turned to shit and the future was just even more shit. Why not just stay put forever?

Toris stared at Ivan for a moment before sighing softly. They had to keep moving if they ever wanted to make it to Berlin. Herds came nearly every day and it only took time before they found them in this cabin. But, seeing Ivan's current condition, they weren't getting anywhere. Berlin was essential and once they got there, they'd be safe. That's the safe haven for all nations. Who knows, maybe they'd find some survivors? There were loads of countries Toris didn't know the statuses of. That included the other Baltics and Germanics.

After a second to think, the Lithuanian walked over and picked up his backpack from the opposite side of the room and walked back over to Ivan. Knowing the large man, his mentality still fixated towards the child side. So, a way to gain back his attention and self was to gain his attention using ways as one would do with a child. Toris sat down beside Ivan and unzipped his backpack.

"Hey, Ivan.." The Lithuanian said, hands rummaging around the bag. His tone was calm and slightly mixed with forced cheer. "I know something that'll turn your mood around." A small smile curled the edges of his lips as he pulled out a pair of soft bunny slippers. They were grey and had little bunny ears sticking up and a little pink nose on each foot. Ivan glanced up and stared at the slippers. No physical reaction, just a stare.

"They look cute..." A soft mumble escaped his lips as his violet eyes stared into the beady ones of the bunny slippers. Toris chuckled when he received a reply. It was an emotionless one and quiet, but it was still something.

"It is cute, isn't it." The brunette said, setting the slippers beside Ivan's feet. "You can have them... They look about your size."

The Russian glanced at where Toris set the slippers, feeling his stomach turn. Those slippers looked just like any old slippers you'd find around a house. Simple slippers one would wear to keep their feet warm at night as they roamed the rooms. Different rooms that had sleeping people in them. Or maybe people who were studying or working on their job. Oh, they resembled so much of the past-

Before Ivan could think any further, Toris spoke again.

"And, I found this when I broke into an old toy store." The Lithuanian pulled out a hand sized plastic egg, one someone would usually find in a fake kitchen set. Toris smiled brightly as he reached into his bag once more to pull out a black sharpie. Ivan looked over, curious to see what the other man was doing with a plastic egg.

"What are you.." Ivan began to ask. His question was answered before he could even finish. Toris turned over to him and held up the plastic egg. A grumpy face now was scribbled on the front, which was the reason of the sharpie.

"It's an angry egg! See!" Toris exclaimed with a bright grin. He moved it about before Ivan, imitating a voice for it. "Hello! I'm the angry egg! When I'm mad, I turn into a boiled egg!" He spoke in an obnoxious and goofy tone, making weird facial expressions as he did so. Ivan watching him, a little smile cracking his blank expression. Toris continued to make weird noises while moving around the egg, hoping this made Ivan feel better. It did. The Russian giggled softly which turned into a happy laugh.

"Heh... That is much of the weirdness. The angry egg is very funny." Ivan said with a slight smile. Yes, that childish tactic did work into getting him more active. Toris chuckled softly as he slipped the angry egg into the bunny slippers.

"You're back." Toris said, looking over at Ivan with the same smile. The Russian looked back, his smile faltering but still remaining.

"I've always been here." Ivan replied, scratching the side of his cheek.

"Yeah, but not mentally... You've been unresponsive and spacing out. Now, you're here." Toris leaned back against the wall, glancing over at the man. "Are you okay now?"

Ivan lowered his gaze as his grin disappeared yet again. An almost inaudible sigh came from him as he gave a slight shrug. "I don't know... I don't like the world. I don't like how things are now." Toris exchanged a sigh and nodded.

"I know... I don't like how things are either. But hey, it doesn't mean it can't change. When we get to Berlin, will meet up with the others and talk about how we can fix the world. We'll be able to get rid of this whole mess."

That's what would happen if they get to Berlin. All the remaining nations would gather up and discuss a way to get rid of the undead and reconstruct the world. Hopefully, there would be enough nations to do so. From the looks of it, even the strongest and long-lasting ones had fallen..

"Do you think you can stick around and join me into going to Berlin?" Toris said after a moment, looking over at Ivan. Ivan turned his head slowly towards the Lithuanian, keeping his eyes casted down.

"I suppose I can..." He answered dully. What was the point? If he stayed, his risks and future in this world would be the same. So, why not just join the Lithuanian. At the answer, Toris let out a light laugh.

"Great!" He nudged Ivan softly on the arm. "Now, how about you turn that frown upside down. If you don't, the angry egg will get even more angry. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" Toris pulled out the egg again and waved about the Russian's face. Ivan looked at in as a wave of giggles erupted from him again.

"I'm sorry, angry egg. I don't want you to be angry."

So, there they were. Ivan was now with Toris. The two were now together to continue their journey to Berlin; in hopes of bringing back the old world.

 **_**  
 **Author's Note:**

 **As stated in my other fic, I apologise for the very late update. Some personal issues came up and I haven't had time nor energy to update any of my fanfics. But I'm back now.**

 **Anyways, I hope you like this chapter!**

 **Please leave your feedback in the reviews/comments! I love to hear them!**


	10. By The Sea -Sweden & Finland-

Berwald stumbled outside, eyes darting everywhere for the sight of Tino. That gunshot and that scream. Where was he? Was he okay?

"Tino! Tino!" Berwald screamed into the night, not caring about any biters that might hear him. That didn't matter. He needed to get to Tino. That's all he cared about. Unfortunately, Tino was not answering back to his calls. The only answer he received was silence.

Ever since the loss of Peter, Tino never was the same. Ever since the last breath of life that young nation took, the Finnish man was broken. Berwald had made it a goal of his to bring back the man, the jolly and happy-go-lucky mentality the man had. That's all he wanted. If Tino came back, all would be well, even if the world had gone to shit. Tino's return was all Berwald wanted- no, needed. He needed the man back.

"Tino!" Berwald shouted once more, his heart beating against his ears. He had grown worried now for silence was all he was hearing. That wasn't something he wanted to listen in on at the moment. Sure, if he was with Tino and scoping out danger, but not when he was trying to find his love.

Suddenly, there came a gasp and shaky sob from behind. Berwald whipped around, eyes wide in the dark. Very faintly, he saw the outline of Tino bent over and holding his hand. The man's body shook as soft sobs escaped his lips.

"Tino.." The Swedish man approached the crying man, his voice in an attempt to be gentle. The closer he got to the smaller male, he noticed the blood dripping from his hand. A deep cut was seen on his palm and somewhat visible on the other side. No, he wasn't wounded by a biter. "Your hand.."

"I-I thought it was him." Tino's voice was shaky and broke against his cries. Wide violet eyes gleamed up at Berwald, tears shining in the moonlight. "I-I thought it w-was him..."

Berwald furrowed his eyes a bit, truly hurt at what he was hearing. He wanted Tino back... "I know.. I'm sorry, but Tino.. He's dea-"

"Dead! I know he's dead!" The Finnish man suddenly shouted. His lips curled into a smile as an insane laugh escaped him. Flinging the bloodied gun to the ground, Tino turned sharply to stare up at Berwald. "The boy is no more, Berwald! No more! He's dead! All because of me! I killed him! I killed Peter! Because of me, he's dead!"

A sob and laugh erupted from him at the same time, sending a chill down Berwald's spine. Yes, he remembered exactly what took place.. What happened that led to the death of Peter. That event was something even he chose to forget. However, now apparently Tino wished to revisit. "He was dead before you killed him." Berwald added in quietly, "He was a b-"

"No! It's my fault! All my fault!" Tino's pain filled voice drowned out Berwald's, making him silence again. The Finnish man looked up at the man, his eyes cracked and fractured with tears. The expression on him was... just like broken glass. Unfixable. He continued, "I allowed him to go out and look at the sea, just like how he loved. That's all he wanted to do. He wanted to see the waters he ruled over... Th-That's all he wanted to do..."

Berwald kept quiet as he listened to his lover explain. He knew all this. He saw all this... Why was he bringing it up now?

"A-And when he went outside..." Tino spoke on, eyes now saddened. "He looked back at me and smiled.. That big smile of his th-that warmed my heart.. He was so happy. It had b-been days since he had laid eyes upon the waves.. Those beautiful ocean waves he adored..." A pause separated his story as Tino's gaze drifted away from Berwald and to the ground. "I t-turned away... to pick something up and when I looked back at him... h-he... he was gone..."

As he spoke, Tino's uninjured hand slowly wrapped the hilt of his knife. That knife... He pulled it out and stared at the dried blood coating its metal blade. "He was gone... I looked away and he was taken from us... The biter left him on th-the ground and staggered off as if nothing happened. It had gotten what it wanted. It got the life of our child..." He ran a finger over the edge of the knife, sending fresh blood dripping over the dried blood. "When I got there, he was barely holding on... I couldn't bare to look at how b-broken his body was... How broken he..."

"Tino, you don't 'ave to.." Berwald spoke up, trying to stop the smaller male. If he kept talking, maybe it would break him even more. Maybe it would delay the time it took to bring the real him back. Tino ignored him.

"'I love you, mum..' is what he said. 'Please take care of Papa... Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here because... I'm there...' And he pointed over to th-the beautiful seas he so loved... So loved... And, when I looked back, he was staring at me.. but he wasn't there... Those eyes... Those lifeless eyes stared up at me..." Tino looked back at Berwald again, hand now even more wet with crimson. The snapped smile spread across his face once more.

"D-Don't you see? It's my fault Peter's gone! My fault Peter isn't with us!" Another laugh escaped him as he stared up at Berwald, his grip on the knife tightening. "If only I watched him. If only I was there for him! But I wasn't! I let that biter take him from us and did n-nothing about it! Nothing! Peter died on my hand! There's nothing else about it! I killed him! Peter!" Another laugh mixed in with another cry. "It's all my fault!- It is your fault, you're so stupid! Don't be surprised this would happen- I know I'm stupid. I killed him, all my- Yes, it's all your fault. All of it!" Tino suddenly began to argue with himself back and forth, his voice changing from his own broken voice to the scolding, hateful one. He grabbed his hair once again, as his words became mumbled now, making it impossible for Berwald to hear.

This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. Tino was far gone now... But... Berwald still held that little ray of hope. That little sliver of 'maybe he's still in there'. Yeah, Tino always did tell him to look on the bright side. There always was a way to get better. His thoughts were suddenly halted when a scream broke through the air.

"I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE!" Tino screamed into the night, pulling at his hair. Berwald jumped and quickly put his hands on the man's shoulder.

"T-Tino, calm down! Listen to me, please! Tino!" The larger male begged, looking at the other with sorrow filled eyes. Tino's breathing hitched as he felt arms wrap around him and pull him close to their chest. Berwald held him close, hoping this hug brought something, anything, back from the male. "Please come back Tino..."

The answer he received came along with an empty voice.

"Tino isn't here anymore, Berwald... He died with Peter."

 **_**  
 **Author's Note:**

 **Ah, I couldn't help myself~**  
 **I had to continue writing, even though I updated yesterday. Haha.**

 **I hope you liked it! I packed it in with extra feels.**

 **Please leave me your feedback in the reviews/comments! I love to hear them! It helps me write!**


	11. I Love You -France & England-

It had been a day since the herd invaded their cabin. A day since Francis had been scratched.

He was surprised to see he hadn't died yet, considering that it was a pretty deep gash. Certainly a wound like that would get infected quicker than the average scratch. However, he did feel different. Very different.

"We should start heading out again." Arthur mumbled, peering out the window. It was morning, heading on to the second day after the biters. Francis was leaning against the door, trying to shake away the aching in his body. All his bones felt like they were being constantly jabbed at with needles. But, he did his best to keep this hidden from the Briton.

"Oui, we should.." Francis replied softly, pushing himself off the wall. When was he going to tell Arthur? Would it be when the man found him dead? Or maybe when he could no longer hold it up any longer? Francis didn't know... He wasn't sure how to break the news to the Englishman.

Arthur adjusted the backpack on his back and looked outside of the opened door. The sun was just peaking over the trees around, causing him to squint the more he looked. It was a pretty sight, he had to admit, but pretty wasn't something he had any will or energy to stop and admire. That didn't matter in his eyes anymore.

"I always wondered why trees were always green." Arthur muttered absentmindedly, staring at the leaves. "I know there must be some scientific reasoning behind it, probably connecting to the nutrients in the soil and oxygen and all that, but-"

"Ah, Arthur..." Francis sighed, walking up to him. He placed a slightly shaky hand on his shoulder as a chuckle escaped his lips. "You always do seem to let your mind wander. I've always found it adorable."

At that statement, the Briton felt his cheeks flush red. "I-I am in no way adorable! Mind you, if I am anything I am a sophisticated and charming gentleman!" Francis snickered.

"You are sophisticated, but I, on the other hand, have all the charm. Not you."

Arthur pursed his lips angrily and huffed. Even in the midst of danger they'd be bickering. Francis wondered if Arthur would miss that when he was gone...

"Come on." The Englishman said after a moment. "It's morning so we'll be able to cover some ground before night falls." With that, Arthur strolled out the door and began walking away from the little cabin they had hid out in.

Francis watched him, a sad smile tugging at his lips. Would this be the last time he had a morning conversation with the man? Maybe he should've cherished that little bickering scene longer... It might've been their last. The Frenchman winced as a shot of pain stabbed through him. Those shots of pain had been happening more frequent now. Was that a sign of death? Was death trying to signal to him 'you're next'?

"Hurry up, frog! We haven't got all day you know." Arthur's persistent voice broke through his thoughts. Francis blinked and looked over and saw Arthur frowning at him outside. How cute his frown was to him...

"Alright, I'm coming-" The Frenchman called back, but stopped. Did those words even make it out of his mouth, or did he just imagine himself saying them? Either way, that didn't matter. The next thing he knew, Francis found himself lying face down in between the entry way of the door and outside.

"Francis?!" Came a shout from a distance, a very far distance. Francis blinked as his vision swayed in and out of focus. He was on the ground, that was clear. Had he fallen? His mind was in too much of a daze to figure that out. Suddenly, he felt someone push him over and the sun instantly blinded him. It was Arthur.

"Francis! Are you okay?! What's wrong?!" The Briton's worried voice was crisp to his ears; the only thing that was audible. Francis blinked once more and found himself staring up at a wide eyed and pale faced Arthur.

"Arthur-" The Frenchman made an attempt to speak but was quickly cut off by a fit of coughs. These coughs weren't no ordinary coughs though. Oh no. These were the coughs of the infected. If someone was coughing in such a way they would be deemed as pre-biters. As the man coughed, blood began to trickle down his mouth. This only made Arthur more worried.

"Bloody hell..." The Briton slipped an arm under the man and lifted him up a bit. He held him close, trying to help him in whatever way he can, even if he didn't know what was wrong. "Francis, are you hurt? What's wrong? Are you okay?" All these questions began spewing out of his mouth, leaving no time for Francis to answer- not like he could if he wanted to.

The Frenchman merely stared up at the concerned Briton, just stared. Blue eyes staring up at his beloved's face.

So... This was it. He didn't need someone to tell him. He didn't need to look at the different sides of things. He just knew that it was time. Time to...

"Arthur... Look at me." Francis mumbled, his eyes softening. Arthur stopped his questions and moving about and froze. Emerald eyes connected with the sapphire ones, and for a moment time stopped.

"Francis... What's going on?" Arthur questioned cautiously as he looked to see the Frenchman so calm. This wasn't natural. Something wasn't right. Francis would never act so relaxed when he was stressed out, especially during this time.

"I've always adored the way your eyes glistened in the light... Did you know that?" Francis said, his voice now fragile. "I always loved the way the green seemed to shine like lovely jewels in the sunlight and moonlight. Reminded me of our pirate days.. Ah, you were so much more brave and daring then-"

"Wh-Why are you speaking like this?" Arthur interrupted, now starting to fear of what he may receive as an answer. He knew this speech very well. This was the talk of someone who was leaving, or someone who was taking their last breath. Francis couldn't possibly be-

The Frenchman silenced at the question, his eyes dropping a bit but not breaking the stare. "I'm sorry, cher... But, my time here is over."

What was he saying? Why was he saying this? He couldn't be- this couldn't be happening. No, Arthur refused to believe this. He refused to believe the ridiculous yet true thought that came to mind. Francis was Francis! He was France! He was always there, no matter what the circumstances were!

"Wh-What? No! No, you can't be!" Arthur exclaimed rather loudly as he looked over the Frenchman. He held him closer as his breathing quickened. "Wh-Why are you saying this?! You can't die! I-I won't allow it! I won't! What makes you-" The Briton was suddenly cut off as a hand was placed on his cheek. A very gentle but shaky hand.

"Please don't make our last moments be of arguing... That would be horrible, non?" Francis spoke softly, a little smile crossing his face. He wondered how Arthur would be without him. Wondered how different it may be for the man. Sure, they had their fights and arguments, but in the end they always made up. Would he miss those arguments? Would he miss those constant throwing of insults?

"N-No... You can't be..." Arthur's lips moved silently as little snippets of what he was trying to say came out. It didn't take long before tears brimmed his eyes and slid down his face. "Y-You can't leave me.. Francis, t-tell me this is a joke! You can't b-be dying!" Secretly, he was hoping this would be one of those pranks the Frenchman played in order to mess with him. Now he actually wanted the man to joke with him.

Francis smiled weakly, his eyes drooping every now and then. Carefully, he used his thumb to wipe away some of the tears that fell down the Briton's cheeks. "Please don't cry, Angleterre... I hate to see you cry. Don't worry... You're going to live on, okay? Live on for me. I know that hard head of yours can make it through this merde." As he spoke, Francis couldn't help but feel himself begin to choke up. This certainly showed in his eyes which made Arthur cry even more.

"F-Francis... Please... I can't l-lose you." The gentleman sobbed as he held his dying partner in his arms. This wasn't supposed to happen. They both were supposed to make it to Berlin safely. They both were supposed to face the world together. That's the promise they made even before the world turned to shit.

"Désolé, mon amour... But, I have no choice. Death has its way and there's no way of changing its mind." A tear rolled down the side of Francis' face as he felt more of his strength drain. "Please, live on, Angleterre... Promise me that? Promise me you'll be okay; that you'll take care of yourself. Can you p-promise me that?"

Arthur took in a shaky breath as another cry fell from his lips. His emerald eyes now cracked as he stared down at the weakening Frenchman. "Wh-What about the boys?" The Briton brought up. "Alfred and M-Matthew... What about th-them? Th-They need you F-Francis... We all n-need you... Our family isn't complete w-without you..."

"Find them..." Francis breathed, his voice now hallow. "Make sure they're safe and bring them to Berlin..." His lips trembled as he forced another smile upon them. "I'm sure you and the boys will do fine... Besides, the only major loss you'll have is edible meals." An attempted chuckle tried to escape his lips but a cough drowned it out. More blood trickled down his chin as even more energy drained from him.

Arthur shifted his hold he had on the male, having him rest his head against his chest. His loud beating heart contrasted greatly with Francis' own. This couldn't be real... This couldn't be happening... Maybe this was a dream. Yes, all a dream and he would wake up next to Francis sleeping peacefully and this whole mess would be over. That certainly had to be it. However, the sane and reasonable part of his mind knew for a fact that this was indeed reality..

"Je t'aime... Angleterre..." The Frenchman said just above a whisper as his eyes slowly closed. "I love you... Never forget that. Even though my heart may cease to beat... My love for you is forevermore... Maybe in time, our paths will cross again... Live on for me, dear.. Live on and find the boys.. Tell them I love them as well... That Papa will forever be there for them in their hearts... I love you, Arthur. I will keep on loving you... no matter what."

It was as if everything in his body was cracking. Every bone giving way against the heaviness that was being set down upon him. Arthur stared down as he began to gradually feel Francis grow heavier in his arms. "F-Francis...? Francis... H-Hey.. Look at me. P-Please..? Francis..?" He shook him lightly but the Frenchman did not respond. His face was as still as stone... The little smile on his lips still frozen on his still face.

He was dead. The great country of love who always had a special place for everyone in his heart. The one who showed Arthur the true meaning and significance of that precious emotion. The one who opened his eyes in a whole new way of viewing the world. Francis... He was gone. The last bits of life drained out of him, sending another dagger through Arthur's heart. He was dead. Francis Bonnefoy was dead.

Alas, another country fallen-

"No... No, I can't let this happen." Arthur furrowed his eyebrows as endless tears streamed down his face. "I am not going to let this h-happen... I can't lose you."

Without thinking twice about the quick idea that came to mind, Arthur very gently set Francis down on the ground. Tears now wet the man's front shirt, but the Briton didn't care for that. The only thing on his mind was what he was about to do. Maybe it'll work... Maybe it won't. It was a worth a try.

Of course, the Englishman was slightly weary about doing what he was planning. Not once had he done it in the past, but he'd read stories about those who have. Chances of him messing up were high, but that didn't matter. It was drastic and undoable, but Arthur didn't care. If it saved Francis... he would do anything.

Arthur knelt down next to the Frenchman's still body, weeping silently at the sight. God, he hoped this worked. Slowly, he shakily took Francis' hand into his own, squeezing it gently. A shudder past through him as he felt the limpness in his lover's hand... That hand that used to squeeze back reassuringly. Pushing that away, Arthur took a nervous breath as he pressed both their hands over Francis' heart. This had to work.

"I'm sorry, love..." Arthur whispered, closing his eyes. With all the strength and energy he could muster, he tried his best to gather even the slightest bit of magic he had left. Maybe there was still some in him... Even if it was little, it would have to do. After two minutes of immense focus and desperation, a faint green glow began to surround their interlocked hands. The Briton opened his eyes and took in the sight of the glow, watching it brighten.

"Please forgive me when you wake..." Arthur spoke softly, already feeling himself becoming drowsy. "Hopefully, when you wake up, you know I'm doing this because I love you... and I can't bear the thought of you dead in this world. I love and care for you too much..."

Suddenly, Arthur felt himself sway where he knelt. A sad smile crossed his lips as he found himself crumpling to the ground. It was worth it. Performing this sacred magic and accepting the consequences was all worth it. Whenever a life was regained, another was taken away. A life for a life. That was the cost.

The Briton used the last of his energy to grip Francis' hand in his own.

 _I know you will resent me, maybe even hate me, for what I'm doing now. But, I do not care. You are going to be okay now. That is all I need to know... Hopefully, you know this is all an act for love. You are the country of love.. I pray you notice it when you see it, even in severe conditions like this._

Arthur looked at Francis' still face one more time as he felt his eyelids grow heavy. It was worth it... It was worth it...

 _I love you._

As the Briton's eyes closed forever, Francis opened his.

...

"Arthur?... Arthur!"

 **_**  
 **Author's Note:**

 **I was very excited to write this chapter. Hopefully, it was sad and feelsy as I tried to make it, haha~**

 **Anyways!**  
 **Please leave me your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love to hear them and they actually help me write!**


	12. You There? -Sweden & Finland-

They had made it out of the forest they were currently at safely and found a nearby suburb. As expected, it was vacant and no living life could be seen. Well, that is from the naked eye from the outskirts. Berwald had a feeling there was life, whether it be pure or tainted with death, but was unable to point out where exactly. So, he just kept up his guard as Tino took the lead.

He hadn't spoken much since he previous breakdown. A dirtied fabric was tied around his hand he had cut from his knife. They'd run out of bandages so Berwald had to make the best of it. It was merely the tearing of the side of his flannel. Tino didn't complain about it; he had no need to. His mind was elsewhere and had no room to fuss over a substitute for a bandage. Thoughts and flashes of the tragic story he cried out that night still ran through his mind, much to his misfortune. The more he thought about it, the more his sanity slipped from his grasp.

The Finnish man gripped his gun tightly as him and Berwald began to walk down the empty streets of a neighbourhood. The doors of each house were open for anyone to walk through. However, whether the interior was safe or not was up to the risk of those who dare go in. Berwald thought it was best they don't make hasty decisions on where to go but he had no say in the matter. Tino takes lead, that was how it was at the moment.

"Let's go in there." Tino pointed over to the perimeter of the neighbourhood. There was a lone shop by the corner that bordered a road that went down to other shops and other local buildings. It was a small building with one story. There was some area on the roof to climb up to, but that it wasn't that visible due to some metal fencing along the sides. Obviously, the person who occupied this last had an odd way of designing things.

Berwald nodded and followed Tino over to the shop. The door was scratched and loosely connected to its hinges. The Finnish man peered inside and once seeing how it was safe motioned Berwald to follow him in.

Inside, was something like a mini mart. There was a counter in the back and little racks here and there. Food and trinkets were scarce since others had already raided the place, but there were a few leftovers here and there. Tino shut the door, disregarding the slamming, and began to look around quietly.

"We can set up camp here for the day," he said dully, "It's secure, from what it seems. There's food and water here too so..." The male trailed off, feeling no need to continue. It was obvious around the shop already and Berwald had picked up what he was observing.

"Let's rest." The Swedish man said softly, motioning over to a chair in the corner of the shop. Of course, he took a seat on the floor beside the chair, letting Tino sit in comfort. Tino took the seat without a word and looked down at his knees.

The two sat in silence once more, each in their own thoughts.

Berwald casted his gaze to his dirtied hands. _What do I have to do to get Tino back? This person... It's not him. I refuse to believe this to be him. I miss his smile and cheerful glow. The happiness in him seems nonexistent. That isn't how Tino is. Tino is always smiling and doing good for everyone, especially to himself. But... That isn't so now. None of that is how it is now. I need to get Tino back before it's too late. But... how? Time is running out, I can tell._

Tino's eyes stared unblinking at his ripped jeans and bloodied hand. _My fault. My fault. It's all my fault. Peter. He's dead. He's dead. I killed him. I'm the cause. He's dead. I killed him. I killed him. My fault. My fault. I'm breaking. My head hurts. I deserved this. I deserve it all. I killed our son. Peter. Peter. Peter-_

"We wish you a merry Christmas.." Berwald mumbled softly in a gentle tune. Tino flinched. It wasn't even Christmas, why was he singing Christmas carols?

"Berwald, what are you-"

"We wish you a merry Christmas. We wish you a merry Christmas, and a happy new year." The man continued, a little smile tugging at his lips. Tino stared at him for a while, a conflicted look in his eyes. Oh, he could never resist a good Christmas song, no matter what the season was.

"Good tidings we bring... for you and your kin." Tino continued very quietly. Berwald looked over at him, surprised. His smile increased as the male sang on. "Good tidings for Christmas, and a Happy New Years."

Berwald chuckled lightly, taking the Finnish's man's hand into his own. Christmas carols always lightened the male's spirits no matter what. It could be Halloween and they would be singing Jingle Bells like it was at the appropriate time to sing that. Even now, the carols showed a sign through the Finnish man. Tino held Berwald's hand back slightly and continued to hum the jolly tune under his breath.

Yes, this was the Tino that Berwald missed. The man who could never resist a good holiday song. The man who returned his hand holds. The man who showed rays of joy, even if it was incredibly slight. This was the first time in a very long time since he saw this in the small male. Why, he couldn't trace back to when he last saw the true Tino. Oh, how long it has been.

"I missed you." Berwald mumbled, cautious of losing him again. Luckily, he didn't. Tino glanced up at the male and blinked. His face remained of that sorrow filled expression, however his eyes, for once, gave off a shine. A sign of life. Oh, how long it has been.

Tino nodded silently, not verbally answering back to the statement made. He tightened their hand hold slightly, a warmth passing through them. It wasn't an empty hand hold. It had meaning. It was intentional and initiated by both people. It wasn't just Berwald trying to please Tino in hopes of him returning. He actually returned it with equal love and comfort. Oh, how long it had been.

"Berwald..." Tino said softly, blinking once more before looking back at him. There were words he needed to say before he lost himself once more. Now the slightest bit of life and his old self came back, there were things needed to be said. "What happened back there.. I'm sorry."

In 'back there', Berwald couldn't tell if he meant when he had his breakdown or Peter's incident. Nonetheless, he just shook his head and rubbed his hand reassuringly, trying to tell him silently that it was okay.

"I wasn't myself." Tino continued, closing his eyes so he didn't stare down at his bloodied pants. "I just... Peter... I truly believed it was my fault, and still do. I do. I was supposed to watch him, but I turned away. What you've said.. How you've been trying to help me. I just wanted to say thank you. I know, I've never thanked back there, but I am now. I appreciate all you've done. Your words you've been saying never left my mind." He sighed softly, his expression relaxing slightly from his sorrow expression. "The past is past... right? I vaguely remember you mentioning that. What's happened can't be changed. It just... happened. So, why keep that holding us back from progressing forward? Why live in the past when it's over?"

Berwald looked over at him, the little smile staying on his lips. This was Tino. This was the man he had tried many days and weeks trying to revive. He was back. He was finally back. All of those words and actions towards him made a mark and actually brought him back. Tino noticed the joy in Berwald's eyes for he let out a little chuckle.

"Let's start this journey again, okay? We still have to get to Berlin." Tino said, his own lips breaking into a tiny smile. Berwald chuckled as well.

"Let's."

 _He's back._

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the late update. I've had personal issues come up so that's set me back when it came to writing. I'm going to try and update faster, but I'm not making any promises. Again, sorry.**

 **Also, I've decided to drop the Ivan part of this story because I simply have no idea what to do with his chapters. I'll have him and Toris show up again, possible, in the latter parts of the story. But there won't be any chapter specifically for them.**

 **Another thing, there is a small chance this might turn into a FrUk/FACE based story since in starting to get more inspiration for that.**

 **Anyways, please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love hearing them!**


	13. Silence -France-

Three nights since the hoard of biters that ran in. Three nights since he last moved from where he was. Three nights since everything went completely downhill. Three nights since Arthur...

Francis shifted very slightly where he sat, eyes occasionally glancing out the window then back down to his feet. The sun was just about to set- that was obvious by its rays just barely peaking over the forest treetops outside. It was quiet outside so he wasn't alarmed in the slightest for any danger. Even if there was approaching danger, he wouldn't react to it. What was the point? What was the point at all anymore? Ever since Arthur...

No.

Let's clear something up.

Arthur is dead, but not quite. Francis figured that out rather quickly when he awoke to find the other on the floor next to him. If the Brit was truly dead, he would've turned into one of the biters already. However, he hasn't. It's been three nights since that all happened. With that knowledge, Francis grasped onto that very slim belief that Arthur was indeed still alive. It was small, but it was there. It was there.

However, that slim chance of life in Arthur didn't cheer up Francis. It didn't mend his shattered heart that tied him down to where he sat. Arthur was still dead in his eyes. He wasn't breathing nor was he there beside him full of life. He was like a lifeless doll that gave off doubtful hope that it still had life embedded in its wooden cracks. Francis couldn't see any motivation nor inspiration for striving towards the future. There was absolutely no point at all.

"The sun's setting, Arthur." Francis mumbled, looking over at Arthur. The Brit was set down neatly in the corner of the room with a jacket over his torso. "You used to love the sunsets. You'd speak in that beautifully poetic tongue of yours every time you got to see one. I remember, some days you would drag me out of the house just to force me to watch it set with you."

He sighed as silence was the response he received.

The Frenchman closed his eyes before reopening them to stare outside. The sunset...

 _"Francis! Will you bloody look? You don't want to miss it!"_

 _"Ah, mon cher. It is the sunset. It looks just like how it did yesterday."_

 _"It's not the same one, you idiot! It's different!"_

 _"How so?"_

 _"Look. The sun is melting on the rooftops. It's heat waves are wavering and dancing along the edges. The burning orange and red crash together to make a beautiful magenta. And that magenta slowly blends in with the incoming blues. The sky is having a gentle battle between warm and cool colors, can't you see? Every night, the warm give their best fight but are always defeated with the cool colors pushing them down. However, every morning, the warmth have their fair revenge and overtake the cool until the following night. It's an endless battle amongst the colours of the sky every day... It's quite beautiful. And we, as in us on Earth, get to witness it's beauty and triumph every day."_

 _"Ah, you always astound me with your eloquent diction. If only you spoke like that every day instead of that foul mouth of yours."_

 _"Hmph. Well, I'm not the one who chooses to kiss this 'foul mouth' every night before bed."_

Francis chuckled sadly at the memory that played out in his mind. It seemed as if it was only yesterday Arthur was using his poetic tongue once again on the colours of the sky. The Brit always did so everyday. Every night and morning, Francis would be pulled to the window as Arthur described the sky. His description varied and never was the same as the previous day because, as he always said, it was a different sky every day.

Oh, how much Francis longed to hear his voice... He ached to hear Arthur speak, just once. Just one simple word was all he wished for. He could care less about what the word was- it could be 'wanker' 'tea' or even 'idiot' and he'd be satisfied. However, he knew fate was not in his hands and the possibilities of that ever happening were slim. And, he had no belief in wishes nor miracles now. All of that had disappeared and drifted away with Arthur. Francis had given up all hope, all joy, all love for the matter. All of that was gone.

The Frenchman reached over and grasped Arthur's limp hand, using his thumb to caress he back of his cold hand. His skin was still smooth as ever, even despite being gone.

"Arthur.. come back. Please, come back." Francis pleaded, his voice breaking ever so slightly. "I need you, mon Cher. I cannot face the world without you. You.. You are my moon. The world cannot stay daytime forever. The sun cannot remain high in the sky by itself. It needs the moon as their companion. The moon holds the day together. Without you, my moon, my day's are frozen. Time has stopped and I do not know how to start it again. Arthur.. I need you. I need you more than life itself. Even now, life is moving on without me while I'm still here waiting for you."

Tears slowly slid down Francis' face as he broke into soft sobs. He shook his head in disgust and sorrow as silence was, once again, the answer he received. Silence. It's always damn silence. That's all he gets. It doesn't matter how hard he cries, how loud he screams, how much he begs and pleas and prays, Arthur would still only give him silence. Nothing but the sweet, ear shattering sound of silence.

"Help!"

Francis' breathing hitched and his sobs stopped momentarily. What was that? Actually, more like, _who_ was that?

"Oh God, anyone, please! Help!"

It was coming from outside. Francis jumped to his feet, grabbing his knife from his back pocket. Whoever it was, he was going to find out. If it was an enemy, he wasn't going to hesitate to kill. Even if Arthur was gone, Francis would still protect his body until his own body broke before him.

"Help! Anyone, please! My brother!"

Francis swung open the door and looked about for the voice. His eyes locked onto a someone running over to the cabin with someone in their arms. Blood was soaking the person's front as they ran with whoever's body they were carrying. Hesitantly, Francis slipped away his knife and waved them over.

"O-Over here!" The Frenchman shouted out. He could see the man's face was streaming with tears but all other physical features were hidden behind a hood.

"H-Help me, please." The man sobbed, handing Francis the other male he was carrying. Francis took the other in his arms and quickly went inside, setting him down in the opposite side of the room from where Arthur was.

The man he was holding had blood pouring down his forehead and soaking his torso. There was so much blood and dirt the man was unrecognisable. The other, who had been yelling for help, was crying hysterically beside him as he feverishly tried to cover up visible wounds and cleaning up blood.

"Move out of the way." Francis said calmly, grabbing some bandages he and Arthur had snagged from a drugstore a while back. "I'll help out, don't worry. He's going to be okay."

The man nodded shakily, his hands trembling as they were drenched in the other's blood. There was so much blood Francis felt as if he was going to puke. But, no time for that now. Maintaining that strong caring personality trait, he had the need to help those who needed it.

"Please.. A-Anything. Just, please s-save him.. He's the only family I have left."

Francis nodded, feeling his heart ache at that statement. "Don't worry. I will." He glanced up at the man, getting a better look at his face. What he saw nearly made his heart ache even more.

 _...Matthew?_

 **Author's Note:**

 **This was actually a fun chapter to write. I've been yearning to write this chapter and ahhh I can't wait until I write more ;u;**

 **Like I mentioned before, this fic will most likely be turning into a FACE/FrUk centered story since I have more fun writing that. But I'll still keep SuFin in there and possibly other nations? I don't know, depends on how I feel.**

 **Anyways,**  
 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love hearing them and help me continue writing! :)**


	14. Welcome Back -Sweden & Finland-

Tino and Berwald remained in that shop for a few days. It was a pretty good place to be cooped up in considering there were still supplies inside and a good, well put up perimeter. No massive swarm of biters came along to make them double think the safety of the place so they decided to remain where they were.

Tino hadn't resorted back to his broken state, much to Berwald thankfulness. He didn't want to fight for the real Tino back and, fortunately, Tino hadn't gone back down. He remained well in demeanor and just fragile in the mind.

"Berwald.." the Finnish male said slowly. They were both sitting on the shop floor while picking away at half a loaf of stale bread they found. He was peering out the window, his eyes locking onto someone gradually coming closer. Who was it? The way they walked wasn't like a biter. They had no limp or inhuman body movements. They were walking up right and in a straight direction towards the shop. Their physical appearance looked like a man and he did not look to be walking slow. Actually, he was walking pretty quick. "Berwald. Look outside."

The Swedish man looked out the window and he, too, saw the approaching man. Without hesitating, he grabbed his hand gun and dashed over to the window. "Get down."

"Do they look dangerous?"

"Can't tell."

"Are they armed?"

"Yes. Gun over their shoulder, but they don't have it up."

The man outside continued walking towards the shop, obviously unaware of the two men spotting him out. As he drew closer, clearer details could be seen on him. The guy had blonde hair draping down half of his face and the other half having it tucked behind his ear. A spot of blue could be seen glinting in his eyes. Expression wise, he appeared very worn down.. almost out of it. The more he came closer, the more he could be deciphered.

Berwald looked over at Tino. "He doesn't look like a threat. I don't think he even sees us."

Tino walked over to the window and glanced at the Swedish male for a second. "Still, keep your eye on him to make sure. This might be a little plan he has in mind."

You could never be too relaxed in an apocalypse. Unpredictable events and actions happen every second. There is never a 'safe point'. Those points don't exist anymore. You could be cooped up in the world's most secure place and have endless food supply and everything to keep you healthy and well, but you still aren't in the clear. Anything can happen now. In that perfect place, there could be clever intruders. If you were alone, you could be driven insane by the silence of solitude. If you were with someone, they could turn on you at any time. Freedom rings in the apocalypse. Sometimes having too much freedom is the real threat.

"He's gone." Berwald exclaimed, eyes widening. He turned back to the window to find the man out of sight. It was like he just disappeared into the thin air. There was no dragging shadow or signs of where he might have went. It was almost as if he was a mere illu-

 _Click_

"Turn around."

Tino and Berwald both stiffened as they heard a low voice growl a command at them. The sound of a gun being held up could be heard. Well, here's a perfect example of letting down any guard.

Slowly, the two men turned around to face the bearer of the voice. Tino stared at the man, his eyes widening. Dirty blonde hair draping over the right eye whilst the other eye was clear with the other hair tucked behind his ear. Deep blue eyes hardened by his blank expression. Pale skin frequently blotched with bruises and dried up blood. Tino never knew what happened to him. Him and Berwald were at home with... _the boy_... during the breakout. They had just assumed he died, but hoped he was still alive with the rest. Well, their hopes came true.

"M-Mathias?!" Tino exclaimed with surprise, almost joyful to see the Danish man again. Mathias frowned a bit, cocking his head to his left at what was said.

"How do you know my name?" He questioned, still holding up the gun towards the Finnish male. Tino blinked, looking a bit confused.

"Mathias, it's me. Tino." He said slowly then nodding his head over. "It's Tino and Berwald. Remember us?" Mathias stared at the two with a pure look of confusion before all of it washing away with a look of shock. Tears welled up in his blue eyes as the realization of the two people in front of him came back.

"T-Tino..! B-Berwald..! It really is you guys." Mathias cried, lowering his gun. Immediately, he pulled the two into a tight hug. Berwald chuckled softly as he felt his eyes water. Tino's breathing hitched at the hug but he, surprisingly, managed to relax in the embrace.

It'd been so long since they've socialized with someone they knew. Actually, it'd been a while since they socialized with any living person. But, being with someone they actually knew meant a lot more than just a random person. This was Mathias. This was someone that connected with them before the new world.

After a moment of hugging and all that loving shit, Mathias let go and looked at the two with a huge grin on his face. Now, his appearance was much more visible now. There was a faint cut across his left cheek where his hair didn't curtain over. His clothes were ragged and extremely worn out. The usual appearance of one during the apocalypse. However, there was one thing that stood out upon the Danish male that was specific to him alone. A silver cross clip gleamed on his hair that was tucked behind his ear. There was a small hue of red coming off of it but it was hard to tell by the bad lit room.

Tino took note of the Norwegian clip but chose not to bring it up... at least, not right now. Instead he forced a smile, which was only half forced, and looked at Mathias.

"How are you?"

Mathias chuckled, a flicker of sorrow crossing his eyes but almost disappearing as quick as it came.

"Who even knows anymore in this world. But, I'm good now. I got some family back. That's more than I could ever ask for."

 **Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter was kind of a bore or just kinda sucks. I couldn't find an interesting way of bringing up Denmark and I'm too eager with writing the next chapter ;u;**

 **Anyways,**

 **Please leave me your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love hearing them and they encourage me to keep writing!**


	15. Lost and Found -France, Canada, America-

Cries were the only thing heard within the place. It bounced off the wooden walls and surrounded the two men where they sat. Cries weren't an uncommon thing to hear in the apocalypse. No, it was quite normal for people to cry. It would be more uncommon to not hear people cry. However, this cry was certainly a rare one to hear during the new world. It wasn't a grieving, saddened cry. It was a cry coated in joy.

"P-Papa...P-Papa.. It's you.. It's really you." Matthew cried, burying his face into Francis's shoulder. Francis let out a shaky laugh between his tears as he held his son close to his chest.

"Oui, mon doux garçon." Francis said softly, gently stroking Matthew's hair with his shaking fingers. This hair so much like his own. This voice that was sobbing in his ears. This person holding onto him tightly as if he were afraid of what would happen if let go. The Frenchman never thought he'd see this boy again. "I'm here. I'm here."

Matthew felt more cries break forth from him as he heard the reassuring words he had only dreamed of hearing again. Every second passed he had to accept the hard to believe fact that Francis was, indeed, right here with him. His Papa. The man who cared for him since he was little. The man who was always there to provide comfort and love.

"I-I didn't think I would ever see you again!" The Canadian choked out, pulling away from the hug to look up at the other. "We couldn't contact you guys a-and everything was in ch-chaos. There was s-so much going on and those things.. th-those things are everywhere.. A-Al and I barely got out of th-that ship we sailed over to get here. We j-just barely made it. We-"

"Shh, shh. Hush, now. It's okay, it's okay. You both are okay now. You're okay. You're here with us, you're okay." Francis repeated those words soothingly, wiping the tears off of Matthew's face. The other nodded silently, his lips wobbling into a small smile. That was true. They were going to be okay now. They were no longer alone. "Papa is here. Nothing is going to hurt you. Everything will be all right."

Well, that statement could be determined. As he spoke this, Francis glanced over at the bloody American that was lying unconciously across from where Arthur lied. His shirt had been removed due to his injuries that needed to be tended to. According to Matthew, they tried raiding a small drugstore off the corner of a road nearby and ran into some other survivors. Of course Alfred, being Alfred, tried to crack jokes and all that 'I'm witty and can kick your ass' attitude to get what they needed. Apparently the other people didn't buy it and ended up drawing their weapons on them. Alfred was cut deeply on the side and beaten pretty badly and Matthew only with some bad bruises across the cheek and back. How the Canadian managed to drag the American away and to safety was still a blur in his eyes.

When Matthew explained what happened with Alfred, it was only time before he asked Francis about Arthur. Francis merely replied with a smile and said all will be fine. Will it? Uncertainty lingered around the Frenchman's thoughts towards his beloved Brit. No, he did not believe he was dead. The male hadn't turned into a biter. However, he wasn't breathing or showed any signs of life so death could still be probable. Nonetheless, Francis couldn't say the exact situation Arthur was in.

After a few minutes of comforting and tears, Matthew pulled away and let out a sigh.

"We should check on Alfred." He said quietly, glancing over at his brother. Of course, it had only been about ten minutes since he had checked over him but that was ten minutes too long. Ever since the start of it all, Matthew had been very keen on keeping Alfred safe. Before running into Francis, the Canadian and American only had each other. So, both were extremely cautious and protective of one another.

Francis scooted over to the resting American, looking over him. Bloodied bandages wrapped around his torso multiple times, the deep crimson darker around his side and shoulder. There was a dried trail of blood from his forehead that connected to a purple bruise on his cheek. The whole image of the American resembled a broken doll. The wounds on his body appeared like cracks on precious porcelain. His expression was a resting mask distraught and woe. This wasn't like how Alfred was perceived. He always presented himself very strongly and lively. This... was the exact opposite.

"I-I think he's waking up." Matthew whispered, quickly scooting over to the American's left. Alfred's brows furrowed together ever so slightly as his twitched with life.

"M-Matt.. Matthew?.." Alfred's voice was soft and weak as he called out to his brother. Matthew let out a sigh of relief as he heard himself be called out. Oh, he was okay. Alfred was okay. He was awake. He was talking. He remembered. He was okay. He was going to be okay.

"I'm here, Alfred. I'm here." The Canadian reassured, tucking some of the American's hair out of his face. Alfred slowly and hesitantly cracked open his eyes, his sapphire orbs taking in the scene around him. At first, they locked onto Matthew, causing the corners of his mouth to up turn into smile. Matthew smiled back, giving a little nod to Francis. "Look who I found."

Alfred blinked, a confused expression crossing his eyes when Matthew said that. Found? Who was it? He turned his head over to where his brother nodded to and saw Francis come into view. His smile disappeared out of shock as he stared in disbelief at the man sitting before him. He weakly lifted up his hand and went to touch Francis, half believing he was just a hallucination his mind made him see.

Francis chuckled, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight. "Oui, it's me, Alfred. I'm here." He replied gently, taking the American's outstretched hand in his own, squeezing it softly to reassure him. At the touch, Alfred felt tears suddenly pour down his cheeks. It was him. It was family. Someone else. Francis. His papa. It was family.

A weak sob escaped Alfred's lips as Francis held tightly to his hand and stroked his dirty hair ever so gently. "Y-You.. It's y-you.. You're here.. You're h-here..." The male couldn't say anything else. Those words just repeated in between his cries as he never let go of the Frenchman's hand. Oh God, it really was him. Matthew laughed happily as he saw his brother cry with joy towards their dad. They both came a long way. They both went through a lot when they last saw their fathers. And, they both needed them in their life right now. And, the world was kind enough to show them to them.

"Shh, shh.. It's okay, Alfred, it's okay. Calm down." Francis said calmly, leaning down to press a soft kiss on the sobbing American's forehead. Alfred nodded silently, sniffing back some more tears as he stared up at Francis. He just couldn't believe it. He was there.. He was- wait. Francis was here. So where was...

"Arthur." Alfred said suddenly, blinking away his tears. "Wh-Where's Arthur?"

Silence.

Francis blinked, his smile slowly vanishing. Matthew gulped, unsure how to respond. At the silence given, Alfred felt his hope once again drain from him.

"Wh-Where's... Arthur?" He asked once again, begging silence wasn't the answer again. Thankfully, it was not.

"Alfred.." Francis's voice was hesitant and forcefully calm. He scooted back a bit, making Arthur's resting body visible. "please understand-"

Alfred's blue eyes locked onto the body of the British male, all focus being put on that view. He was lying down in the corner. Why? Alfred wanted to know. Ignoring what Francis was saying, the American forced himself up to crawl over to Arthur.

"Alfred, wait-" Matthew interjected, trying to hold Alfred back down. He didn't want the other to hurt himself further. However, as expected, Alfred pulled himself away as he shakily dragged himself over to Arthur.

"A-Arthur?" Alfred called out quietly, his hand reaching out to grasp Arthur's limp one.

No response from the gentleman. Francis and Matthew sat where they were, watching the wounded boy call out to the other.

"Arthur, i-it's me. Alfred.."

Silence.

Alfred finally made it over, grasping Arthur's hand in his own. His mouth opened to call out again but stopped suddenly when he felt his hand. It was cold. There was no warmth in his hand nor did the hand hold his back. It was a dead hand. It was a lifeless hand. It was a dead connected to a being who had no more life pulsing through his veins. Alfred felt his face pale as he shook Arthur's hand desperately. No, no. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be dead.

"A-Arthur.. Arthur.. Arthur! Arthur!" Alfred screamed now despite his incredibly fragile voice. He screamed for Arthur to answer him. He cried out for his first ever friend. He yelled for his past enemy. He sobbed for the one who taught him everything. He bawled for the one who made him who he was today. He wailed for the one he loved dearly. He pleaded for the one person who devoted so much to him at an early age. He screamed out for Arthur, the one who meant the world to him. Do you know what answer he got back in return?

 _Silence_

 **Author's Note:**

 **Yikes, I hope this chapter is good. I wanted to get another one out there because I don't know when I'd be able to write the next one (lol I'm so bad at being consistent) and really wanted to get this one done at least.**

 **I hope you liked it!** _ **Please**_ **leave your feedback in the reviews/comments! I love to read them and they inspire me to keep going! :)**


	16. Silver and Blood -Sweden, Finland, Den-

[ Denmark/Mathias P.O.V ]

It was quite a surprise to see them. Weeks prior I've accepted that everyone I knew and was family to were dead. It was cutting close to when I started believing that no one else living was still walking this earth. Months had passed since I've seen someone walking around with a beating heart. Seeing Tino and Berwald again were... quite a heartwarming sight.

However, meeting them wasn't like how it was when I saw them last. If I could recall, the last time we were together, Berwald and Tino were playing with Peter in their living room. I had come over to borrow some- y'know, _what_ I came to borrow isn't important. Anyways, I went over to borrow _something_ I would need later on that night and saw Tino fixing up the living room as Peter watched TV with Berwald. Tino was smiling and glowed his usual lively happiness. Peter was laughing and acted like how any child would. Berwald sat stoic where he was whilst reading the newspaper, a small smile every now and then creeping on his lips.

At the time, that was normal. That's how it was all the time, every time I saw them. Now as I look back at it, it's such a foreign memory. Almost as if it were a dream.

"You can sleep near those shelves." Berwald said softly, pointing over to an old shop shelf that used to hold up medicine bottles. I had settled down with them after we were reunited and found out they were hiding out in this shop for the time being. Surprisingly, that was all they told me so far. Not much, right? You leave the fam for, what, at least four months and that's all you catch up on. I don't blame them though... I have my fair share of events I've kept silent.

"Thanks." I replied absentmindedly as I kept to my thoughts. Yes, it wasn't a surprise amongst all our demeanors. We were all quite different.

I glance over at Berwald. He was stashing some unperishables into his backpack and organizing them. His eyes gave off a glint of tiredness and a hint of loss. Overall, he just appeared worn out. Well, that wasn't entirely new since often times he'd appear that way in the past. But there were a few hints of sorrow. When I looked over at Tino, there was a massive change in demeanor. The Finnish male was cleaning his gun and wiping some dried blood off of it. His eyes were ever so slightly wide as he stared down at the weapon. The look on his eyes were different than Berwald's. I saw pain in them. Regret. Broken.

What the fuck happened to them? Where's the jolly Finny I knew who always greeted those with a bright smile. Where's the hard exterior but soft interior Berwald who always glared but was always silently pleased with everything. It was as if those personalities of their's were just an illusion remembered only in my own mind... I mean, I shouldn't be too surprised. I'm sure I've changed and just haven't noticed. I know things have changed, that's for certain.

"I'm going to go outside to see if it's safe to sleep." Berwald mumbled, setting his backpack down and standing up. I nodded as I watched him grab a pistol from a shelf and disappear through the door. There wasn't much of a difference when he left. It was still as silent as it had been for the past two hours.

I let out a sigh and bunched up my dirty jacket in the corner of two shelves, trying to create a makeshift bed. It wasn't great but it had to do, y'know. As I was starting to settle down, I noticed Tino doing the same a couple feet away from me. Silence still rang across the room, not that I minded. It was a common sound to me.

"Mathias?"

I blinked, glancing over. I saw Tino sitting on his knees, looking at me with an unreadable expression. The gun he was cleaning was set down beside him as he, too, was making himself a bed. I forced a small smile, "Yes, lil Teeny Tino?

He leaned back against the wall, staring at me while he scratched his cheek. Those eyes. They were dead looking. If it weren't for his body movement, he could easily be mistaken as dead. The Finnish man's eyes shifted over to me then to my hair. "That pin."

He didn't need to be specific for me to know what he meant by that. It was as if cold water was poured over me and dripped down my now pale back when those two words were said. Goosebumps crawled against my skin as the cold metal on my hair ever so gently pressed against my head.

"That... was Lukas's." Tino continued, his tone chillingly dull. I gulped and nodded, words struggling to form in my mouth.

 _"Mathias! Help me!"_

 _"I-I'm trying, I'm trying!"_

I shakily reached up and unclipped the metal cross from my hair and held it in my hand. A red hue glowed faintly on its reflective silver.

I noticed Tino raising a brow as he stared at me. Was he wondering what took me so long to answer? Why hadn't I answered? He merely stated that was his clip. I could simply say the word 'yes' and that would be an answer. A simple word that took a lifetime to say.

"Yes, it's his pin." I murmured, using four words to reply. I noticed Tino lick his lips absentmindedly as his eyes locked onto the pin.

"Where is he?" Did he not know any sensitivity as he asked such a hard question in such a blunt tone?

"Dead. He's dead." My answer this time was short, flashes of events of the past crossing my eyes. I could feel his oncoming question and decided to answer it before it was asked. "We were running away from a herd and decided to climb up a tree to get away from them. Y'know, biters don't climb... So, we were climbing and I heard a branch break. I was further up than him and I look down to see him hanging upside down with his foot being stuck between a cracking branch-"

 _His fearful eyes stared up at mine- the most life and emotion I had ever noticed in his eyes. His hands fumbled helplessly as he tried to pull himself back up. The biters' growls below grew louder by the second._

"I tried moving down to help him up but the branch his foot was stuck on was the only one I would need to step on to reach him and that branch was too fragile to break. If I broke it, he would fall-"

 _Crack._

"By the time I found another branch to climb to, the branch snapped. I looked back at him and... he... someone else had taken him and decided how his life would be. They decided to end it-"

 _I was hanging from a branch, staring down at a bloodied hand reaching for me from the grass floor below. Screams. His screams pierced through my ears and my eyes took in the whole sight. The sight of his flesh being torn from him as the biters feasted upon him. The sight of his hurt and fearful eyes never leaving mine even as he was being eaten. The sight of his crimson dripping hand desperately reaching up to the branches of the tree I hung on. The sight of that same hand twitch and slowly drop and disappear into the crowd of biters that surrounded him._

Tino's eyes fell to his lap when I looked up at him. I don't know how I appeared to him. Maybe I looked irritated that I had to explain it all. Maybe I looked sad to recall the events. Who knows. I've lost all knowledge of how to recognize my own emotions and thoughts. They just happened.

"I'm sorry." He replied softly. Silence once more.

"It's fine." I said blankly, my eyes going back to the silver clip in my hands. "I managed to recover this... when it was safe again."

 _I climbed down the tree when the biters had been distracted from a gunshot ways away. I noticed two figures running (one tall one and one shorter one with longish hair in a ponytail), but decided not to ponder on them. I hopped down from the tree crawled over to Lukas. It was the most devastating sight I had ever seen... Describing him would make anyone hurl and wish they didn't have ears. Hell, I wish I didn't have eyes to witness the body of the one I cared very deeply for. His eyes were half open and I could see tears still welled up in them. I grasped the bloodied hand that had so desperately reached out for me but I knew it was too late when he didn't return my hold. The only thing I could find on him that wasn't harmed was the clip. The only damage done to that is it being bathed in it's owner's blood._

I closed my fist around the clip, feeling it's forever cold metal press against my palm. I don't remember ever feeling it warm. It's always been cold.

"We should rest." I mumbled, trying to shift the conversation somewhere else. I didn't want to talk anymore about the past- especially about death. Tino nodded, grabbing his jacket and draping it over his shoulders.

Lying down on my makeshift pillow, I placed the clip back in my hair. I always wear it. Ever since that day I haven't gone a day without wearing it. Don't ask why because I wouldn't know what to answer. I don't know how to answer any question accurately now. Everything is just a mystery now and direct answers don't exist.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep. I'd developed an ability to make my sleep quick and awake to the slightest noise. However, as I fell into my slumber, one last thought crossed my mind.

 _Did Berwald come back yet?_

 **Author's Note:**

 **Aye I found out I could write on Wattpad on my school iPad so my chapters will most likely come along more frequently now. Well, I hope.**

 **I hope you guys like this chapter!**

 **Please leave me your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love reading them and help me continue writing!**


	17. Story of Tonight -France,Canada,America-

**Attention! Before reading this chapter, please listen to the song "The Story of Tonight" from the musical Hamilton. You'll need to know that song before reading this or it won't make sense to you :)**

 **Here's a link to the song:** watch?v=GIVOjsPrnOs

It's quite easy to say that everyone changes in an apocalypse. It doesn't matter what type of apocalypse- each one has the same objective which is to end the world. No one could go through something like that and not have anything change and shift about them. That's impossible. Of course, observing and noticing such differences can vary from being very simple to very hard. That's what Francis was trying to do.

After calming Alfred down and easing his frightened and confused thoughts, Francis and Matthew had made the other a better makeshift bed near Arthur's body. Despite being told multiple times that the other was dead, Alfred refused to move from the Brit's side. He lied down in his bloody clothes and held onto the limp hand of his past and first companion. Matthew tried to convince Alfred to move away from Arthur (simply because he was worried about the other), but Alfred wouldn't listen. So, after failed attempts, they just decided to leave him.

Now here they were, an American attached to a dead Brit and a silent Frenchman sitting next to a working Canadian. This is when Francis began to piece together the differences he noticed in his two boys.

Matthew, who was going through his stash backpack, was more tough than before. There was no shyness or hesitance in his eyes like how there were before the world went to shit. Those purple hues were hard and determined now. Every action he made was with confidence and had a goal to reach- every single move. His facial features didn't resemble the sweet, gentle person he was known for. The cracks and flaws on his face told stories that can only be from the opposite of sweet. However, even with this more harsh exterior, Francis could still feel Matthew's kind heart still keeping him well on his toes.

Alfred was a different story. Maybe even a completely different one written by a different author. Francis couldn't trace back anything from the old Alfred then maybe his physical appearance. Then again, that even changed. The American was thinner physically and appeared very alert every second. As he leaned against the wall, his dark blue orbs were empty yet held cracks and shattered fragments along its pupils. Ever since he had woken up Alfred's words were scarce. Maybe that was because of Arthur's status or maybe not. Either way, his words were few or none. Whenever he did happen to speak, his voice was coated with fake strength and often faltered at every sentence. The hero had fallen, but still tried to hold up strong. But, Francis could clearly tell he wasn't as confident and determined as he was before. Now, Alfred was only... scared and uncertain.

"We found some of those cups of fruit a couple towns down." Matthew informed Francis, breaking him out of his thoughts. "We got a good handful." He handed over one of the plastic cups that held in packaged cubes of peaches. Francis took it was a small smile, giving the other a small nod.

"Thank you. It's been a while since I've had one of these."

Matthew chuckled lightly, taking another one out of the bag. He looked over at Alfred, putting on a genuine smile. "Alfred? Do you want one? I'll let you drink the sugary juice in mine since I know that's your favorite part."

Alfred shifted a bit where he sat against the wall, his eyes casted down to his bandaged torso. He did not look up though. "No. I'm fine, Mattie." His voice was soft but was forced with a tone to make him sound okay. Matthew and Francis could both hear through his lies.

"Well," the Canadian said, opening his own cup, '"If you want one later, let me know. I'll make sure to save one for you."

Alfred nodded silently, his hands still onto Arthur. The sight broke Francis's heart. He knew the history that was made between the two. He could recall the day they first met to the day they broke apart and even to the day where they mended their broken bond. Francis was always fond of the relationship between Alfred and Arthur. Being who he was meant he witnessed many different relationships between many different people. And after hundreds of years of observing this, he could clearly say Arthur and Alfred's one is the most special he had ever witnessed. Henceforth why this broke his heart.

Francis sighed, slowly getting up from where he was sitting. He walked over and sat next to Alfred, very gently placing an arm around him. The male didn't say anything, but merely gave the other a gentle, welcoming embrace. Alfred leaned into his arm, not saying anything as well. It was a silent action but certainly did soften the air around them.

"I may not live to see our glory..." Francis quietly sang suddenly, causing Alfred to break out of his own thoughts. That song... he hadn't sung that song in hundreds of years. He nearly forgot about it until Francis revived its sweet music

Matthew smiled, looking up from his backpack. He joined in since he was familiar with the tune, "but I will gladly join the fight."

"And when our children tell our stories." Francis added on, feeling Alfred shift in his gentle hold. "They'll tell the story of tonight."

That song held lots of memories and meaning to Alfred. It was a song he sang along with his people when he started to doubt his hope in the future when he made the attempt to become his own nation. It was during the time he started to think this was the end of him and his whole world would fall apart. He learnt this song from four men who helped him gain independence and grow in a the country he was before the fall. Hearing this song... it surprised him how effective it still was.

"Raise a glass to freedom." Alfred looked up at Francis and Matthew, a very small smile on his lips as he joined along. "Something they can never take away. No matter what they tell you."

The Canadian chuckled, raising his fruit cup. "Raise a glass to us." He kept out the original lyrics (raise a glass to the four of us) out of cautiousness and care for Alfred since there was four people in the room but, living wise, there were three. Fortunately, Alfred didn't catch on and laughed at the raising of the fruit cup.

"Tomorrow there'll be more of us!" Alfred added on, his voice now coated in his signature cheerfulness that was genuine. "Telling the story of tonight."

"Raise a glass to freedom." Matthew and Francis echoed, bright smiles plastered on all three of their faces. Alfred sung after them, singing once again the 'they'll tell the story of tonight.'

It was silly how a simple song could effect the entire mood of those around. A little string of melodies and lyrics that can alternate the emotions of those who hear it- especially if they contribute to it. Just a moment ago, Alfred was wallowing and miserable whilst Matthew cleaned out his backpack silently in his own dullness and Francis studying them sadly. Everything about the room was depressing and no shed of happy light could be found. However, using the old trick of a song, that all changed. And, for a moment, Francis saw the happy boys he once knew...

Alfred giggled, feeling his chest lighten with joy. He opened his mouth to sing the last part of the song, but was cut off when someone else finished it-

"Raise a glass to freedom... They'll tell the story of tonight."

No American sang that nor did any Canadian or Frenchman. The tune was sung out in a soft British accent that was just barely above a whisper. Alfred felt his eyes widen and well up with tears as a hand carefully squeezed his own. That hand that was lifeless ever since he awoke was now returning his never ending hold. Was it... true? At first he thought he was hallucinating, but it was clear Francis and Matthew both heard what he heard.

With hope, Alfred looked down beside him, his lips quivering in a shaky smile when he saw two soft, green eyes staring up at him.

"A-Arthur!"

 **Author's Note:**

 **There is another chapter I'll post later today or tomorrow connecting to this. So, this is a part one of one portion of their story.**

 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love reading them and they help me continue writing.**


	18. Stay Alive -Arthur-

**Attention!**  
 **Just like last chapter's, make sure to listen to the song 'The Story of Tonight' from the musical Hamilton.**  
 **(Yes, yes I'm Hamilton/theatre trash)**  
 **Link to the song can be found at the start of the chapter before this.**  
 **_**

[ Arthur's P.O.V ]

The last thing I remembered was the faint image of Francis's fingers twitching. That assured me that my spell had been done right and he was going to be okay. All I hoped then was that he would understand my actions and wouldn't be upset.

No, I don't exactly understand fully the actions and ways of love. This was something a lover would do for another, right? Sacrificing their life for them. I mean, it feels like that is a way of showing love. However, that could just be my own lack of knowledge of the topic and I could of easily made a huge mistake.

Well that was unreversable now. The spell was cast and I was sent away into my lifeless state. I wasn't exactly 'dead'. I mean, I was, in a sense, but not entirely in death's hands. My heart stopped and my body turned cold- which could give the impression that I was forever gone. But, my mind was still awake. Oh yes. It was very much awake.

I didn't know that the spell still kept a small part of me alive. When I casted it, I was all ready to be damned into eternal sleep in which I would ever wake. That's what I read in my spell book anyway. Then again, there was a small note written in some ancient language I had always put off translating. So, waking up in the depths of my mind was quite the shocker.

"Francis! Francis!" I called out. All around me was white with random bronze doors scattered about my mindscape. I was clean and my clothes were my usual uniform that I used to wear every day. "Alfred! Matthew!" Calling out was an idiotic thing, now that I recall it. It was my own mind and no living being was in there except for me.

I looked about, examining the different doors to see what they leaded to. I didn't open them, fearing for what might happen if I did. I merely read the little plaques that explained what contents could be found inside. Each door held a gateway to my memories. Even inside my own mind I was neat and organized. (Quite bloody brilliant if I have to say.)

One door said 'Friends and Family', another said 'War. Others said 'Love' and another said 'Hate'. Some doors held signs that said 'British music' 'British Television' or 'Sherlock Holmes' (Oh sod off, I'm sure it's not a surprise I have a special area specifically for that. It's a bloody brilliant series.) Basically, it was just significant categories that my memories could be stored in. It was very interesting to see.

Being in such a place was so calming. It was blank and everything was easily placed. I could think about something, like a music melody, and it would start playing around. There was no danger. There was no conflict. It was complete serenity. Imagine being in a place where you can whole heartedly relax with no worries nor complications. Sounds lovely, right? It really was.

"You can't stay here."

A voice echoed around the mindscape, causing myself to jump out of surprise. Who was that? Was someone else in my mind?

"You're needed out there. You can't stay here, Arthur."

I turned around to catch a glimpse of whoever was speaking. I could only see the blank scenery and numerous memory doors all still as ever. Before I knew it, a figure was slowly appearing in front of me. It didn't take long for me to decipher the figure as Alfred.

"Alfred!" I exclaimed, a smile appearing at the corners of my lips. He did not return the smile but merely blinked in response. He spoke once again, his voice never changing in emotion. Right... This wasn't actually Alfred. This was the Alfred in my memories.

"Arthur, you have to get out of this state. You can't stay lifeless like this." I watched him walk towards me, his blue eyes deepening in color as he drew closer. What did he mean by this? Why would this be bad? My mind was perfectly in tact and harmless to myself and it wasn't like there was anything I can do to wake myself up to reality.

"You want to see why it would be bad?" Alfred spoke as my questioning thoughts were made. Of course, this was mind so everything thought was understood as if I said it out loud.

"Bad? Why would it be bad? It's not like I can do much about it anyways." I frowned a bit as I watched Alfred hold up a hand above his head. A yellow glow appeared on his palm and slowly lit up a window above both our heads. (Yes, everything was possible apparently within your mind).

I squinted up at the window above us, trying to make out what was happening.

 _"Come back.. Please, come back.. Don't be dead.."_

I felt my chest tighten as I saw a weeping Francis hugging my body in reality. His cheeks were stained with tears and his cries were as loud as ever. He clutched my limp body close to his chest and buried his face in neck. More cries and sobs broke forth from him as his cracking pleads occasionally interrupted them. I've never seen my love make such heart shattering sounds before...

 _Scene change_.

 _"A-Arthur! Wake up! I-It's me! Alfred! W-Wake up!"_

I gasped as I watched a heavily wounded American crawl towards my body and grasp my hand. He was crying like how Francis was, but his was much more excessive. I watched him shake my hand and hold on tight until his knuckles turned white. I glanced down at my hand and tried to clench it, in hopes of making it hold Alfred's hand back in reality. It didn't work. Alfred continued to cry and remain attached to me as Matthew and Francis tried to pull him away...

"Stop this. Please." I mumbled, looking over at the Alfred beside me. He shook his head, keeping his calm demeanor.

"I can't stop it. This is what's happening right now." He stated, stepping back. "You have to wake up-"

"But I don't know to bloody wake up!" I interjected, my voice rising in anxiousness and desperation. "The spell said this was permanent! I sacrificed my life, correct? Such an act can not be reversed or fixed! It's forever. There's nothing I can do."

A dagger pierced through my heart as I saw Alfred curl up beside me as Matthew rubbed his back in a attempt to comfort him. No.. Seeing Alfred sad was always the worst sight to bear. That boy was always smiling and cheerful- even if he genuinely wasn't. To see his smile nonexistent and replaced by pain filled pleas and tears was devastating. I wanted to stop his tears. I wanted to comfort him.

"Alfred.. D-Don't cry.. I'm still here." I mumbled softly, my voice cracking as I continued to peer through the window. The Alfred beside me sighed, his eyes never leaving me.

"You have to wake up. Staying asleep-"

"Quit telling me to wake up!" I whipped around, giving the Alfred beside me an irritated glare. "I don't bloody know how! Since you keep bringing it up, why don't you tell me how to do it?! How about you wake me up since you want me to so badly!" The Alfred blinked, stepping back a bit with a shrug. It was obvious I shut up his empty demands. Ha, even in my own mind nuisances still follow me.

I looked back up at the window. Alfred's cries had died down by now, but he was still clinging onto my hand as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. My God, the sight of such a thing... I needed to get out. I had to get out.

Foolishly, I jumped and tried to reach out into the window as if to pull myself out into consciousness. That attempt was quickly proven wrong as a sharp force jabbed at my hand and pushed me back out. That didn't work. What else was there? I knew no charms that would be useful. I didn't have any objects nearby that would help me. There were no miracles willing to comply with my yearning. There was nothing.

Hours probably passed until I finally gave up trying to get out. The exact time is something I could not comprehend. A second in my mind could mean and hour in reality. One hour could mean a whole day or more... That fact alone scared me. Am I too late? No, no. I couldn't think that. I would get out in time.. hopefully.

I buried my face in my hands as I sat down below the window. "I don't know what to do..." Tears seeped through my fingers as I felt defeat settle on my shoulders. Maybe I was to forever be stuck in my silent mind and watch my family suffer through this pathetic window. Maybe I won't ever get to se them again. Maybe they're gone forever-

 _I may not live to see our glory_

My doubtful thoughts ceased as I heard those lyrics echo off the white nothingness around me. That song.. It was one of Alfred's favorite songs. He learnt it from these two gentlemen who sang to with their two other friends. It was during the time the American Revolutionary War was ongoing and the Americans were having trouble keeping their spirits up. I've heard Alfred hum and sing that song countless times. It's tune brought up nostalgic memories.

 _But I will gladly join the fight. And when our children tell our stories, they'll tell the story of tonight._

I chuckled sadly, hearing the three sing together. Their voices blending beautifully which caused my heart to ache. My dear Alfred.. My beloved Francis.. My lovely Matthew.. I love you all so. If only I could be with you guys again. I suppose... it's only a matter of time. That is, if time is in my favor.

"R-Raise a glass to freedom.." I sang along softly into my hands, my voice delicate from my threatening sobs. My doubtful thoughts subsided and all that I was focusing on was singing along with my family, even if I wasn't physically there to sing along with. Music and song with those I love was the only important thing right now.

When the song started to go onto its last handful of verses, I felt the white scenery around me begin to fade. Oh, what did this mean? Was this because I'm finally and completely dying? To disappear from reality _and_ my own subconscious. Nonetheless, I continued to sing along softly, grasping onto the sound of my family's uplifting voices. That's all that mattered now. And I'll cherish whatever time I get with them till my last breath.

/

"Raise a glass to freedom... They'll tell the story of tonight."

Silence.

Was I dead? Was this it? No... No, it wasn't. This wasn't death. There was just the faintest sound of leaves whispering in the wind. A dim light was glowing behind my closed eyelids. There was a gasp and, quite uncomfortably, I felt pairs of eyes looking at me. What was this?I could feel something touching and holding my hand. Instinctively, I cautiously held onto whatever it was to get a feel of it. It took me a moment to realize it was another hand. (Wow, Arthur, you're so smart- then again, I have to give myself some leeway. I _had_ just woken up.)

When I came to realize I could move and was certainly not dead, I opened my eyes. Sudden light from a window to my right blinded me briefly as I tried to take in my surroundings. Wood flooring was beneath me. I could smell it from where I lied. Was this.. this the cabin? Wait- does this mean... I'm back in reality?

I looked up, my eyes connecting with a soft blue. Blue. Wide blue eyes brimming with tears as I stared up at them. Connecting those blue eyes were old spectacles and messy blonde hair. And connecting with that was an upright curl with some blood matted into its strands around it. Blonde hair. Curl. Spectacles.

"A-Arthur!" The male beside me exclaimed, his lips quivering to form a smile.

"A-Alfred." I stuttered out, my own eyes widening as I took everything in. This was reality. I made it out of my mind. My, apparently temporary, slumber was lifted. I'm... I'm alive.

Before I knew it, two American arms reached over and pulled me into a big hug. Sobs were buried into my right shoulder as Alfred shook his head countless times. Why? I do not know. All I do know was that he was in hysterics and crying out muffled words that made no sense if put together in an academically correct sentence structure. "A-Arthur.. I th-thought you were d-dead..! Y-You.. I n-never thought I'd s-see you again..! A-Arthur.."

I felt myself suddenly burst into cries as I took in everything. I raised a hand to gently stroke Alfred's hair, feeling every strand to assure myself that this was indeed Alfred. This wasn't a dream. This was real. Alfred was here. The boy who became my brother. The boy who I love more than anything. The boy who I dedicated my life to and did all I could to make sure he was alive and well. The boy who has the most curious sprit I ever knew. The boy who never failed to amaze me with what he could do. The boy who I wished countless, sleepless nights that he was alive... The boy who was alive and was hugging and crying upon me right now.

"Oh God, Alfred.." The words broke in between my tears and gasps of breath between my sobs. "I looked all over f-for you.. All over.. I didn't th-think we'd ever find y-you..! B-But you're here.. You're here.. You're here.." I repeated those words multiple times, barely catching Alfred's echoing response as he repeated those words as well, addressing them to myself.

If this wasn't a dire time, I'm sure this sight would be very bloody amusing. Two men sobbing into eachother shoulders whilst taking turns saying the two words 'you're here' countless times between tears and shaky intakes of breath. It certainly seemed amusing to me as I imagine what it'd be like if this was a scene in the pre-apocalyptic times.

As we hugged, I looked over Alfred's shoulder and took in the rest of the room. My eyes fell upon two other figures, one close beside and another sitting against the wall opposite. The figure sitting on the wall crawled over, a huge smile on his lips. "Arthur!"

I felt a chuckle mix in with my bawls as my emerald orbs recognized the sweet Canadian. "Matthew.."

He came closer and soon wrapped his arms around Alfred and I to join the hug. My two boys.. My two beloved boys whom I searched for since the very beginning. They were okay. They were alive and well. Both with beating hearts and living souls. Both with us right now and not lost like how they were before.

Wait.

 _Us_

I looked over to my left, my heart nearly stopping when I saw the person sitting beside me. The one who I sacrificed my whole being for in the first place. The one I saved out of my attempt of portraying love in a noble way. It certainly did work. He was breathing and living right here beside me. He, too, had tears sliding down his cheeks but no sound came from him. I stared up with blurry vision as I saw his frozen shocked expression as little droplets dripped off the bristles of his chin.

"F-Francis.." I mumbled out, fresh tears welling up as my chest broke into more cries. I reached out a free hand and shakily took Francis's. His hand was shaking as well as he grasped back and slowly scooted more toward us. He didn't say anything but I could tell a billion thoughts were dashing left and right within his mind.

After a thirty seconds of just sitting there still and in shock, Francis let out a shaky breath ran a hand through my hair. I laughed lightly, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. He laughed too before he, too, joined in the hug. He wrapped his arms Alfred, Matthew, and I whilst sobbing with us.

"Mon Cher..." The Frenchman mumbled to me, his lips parting ways every now and then to let out a blended chuckle and cry. "I-I thought you would never wake up.. I d-didn't know if you were even a-alive.. I th-thought I lost you.. I.." His words transitioned back to tears as leaned his forehead against my own in the hug. I shook my head, taking in everything that was happening at this very moment.

"N-Nonsense... I will never leave you guys. I love you all so much. I-I'm here now.. I'm here.. And I will not leave you any time soon, I promise you that."

Alfred.  
Matthew.  
Francis.  
My family.  
My everything.  
All that I have left in this world.

Nothing will take that away from me. Nothing.

 **_**  
 **Author's Note;**

 **If it wasn't already clear, this chapter connects to the previous one. So, a little gift from me to you, double chapters in a week :)**

 **I hope this one was good. I was trying to make it emotional but, then again, I can't even tell if I succeed in drawing emotion at all agh.**

 **Anyways,**  
 **Please leave your thoughts on this chapter in the comments/reviews! I love to read them and they help inspire me to continue writing!**


	19. Waiting

He stared outside the window, his hazel eyes scanning over the terrain. The black metal gate was locked tight and wasn't opening any time soon- unless someone came along. The stone walls were damp from the rain the previous night and gleamed in the midday sunlight. Tiny blue flowers alligned with the pathway that led up to the barricaded building. It was the usual sight to see, which gave him an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. Would this change? Or was this going to continuously go on till time stops?

Feliciano sighed and stepped back from the window, turning to look down the hall he had taken a stop at. There was no sound inside. No music, no voices. Nothing. Of course, that could be just because he was on the upper floor and there were others on the bottom floor. However, that didn't change. Even in a room with everyone who was currently here it was quiet. Silence was the music nowadays. Silence was the nature. Silence was the topic of conversation. Silence was everything.

"Feliciano." The Italian jumped slightly when his name was called. He glanced over to see Antonio standing outside his bedroom door. They all had their own room in this building. Germany's world meeting place was quite big. At the start of it all, Ludwig had gathered as many nations he could find and hid them here. This was the nation's safe haven. Every nation was informed to report here at the start and, so far, only few had made it here.

"Yes?" Feliciano replied, looking at the other blankly. No smiles were exchanged.

"Ludwig wanted me to get you. He says he needs to talk to you." The Spanish male said while scratching the side of his face. A fresh scar from the corner of his right eye down to the corner of his mouth could be seen- how it was acquired was still a mystery to everyone. Antonio never told them what happened. He just arrived at their doorstep weak and hungry and alone with no explanation for his whereabouts or his appearance.

Feliciano nodded and moved past the other silently as he made his way to Ludwig's study. The German always was cooped up in the small library/office in the building. He was constantly looking for answers and tactics to do during this apocalypse.

As he walked, Feliciano briefly glanced through the open rooms leading down into the study. Rodriech was sitting in the dining room absentmindedly picking at the untouched utensils. In the lounge, Gilbert was lying on his back on a couch. He was sleeping which was a little surprising to Feliciano since the Prussian never did sleep nowadays.

Those were the only nations alive in the house. The only ones who made it or were present at the safe haven during this horrid time. Ludwig and Feliciano were here from the start- which was pretty obvious since they were always together no matter what. Gilbert joined them about a month after everything broke out, alone. Then, after a few months, came a disheveled Rodriech with a stare only scarred and traumatized children would bare. The last to arrive was Antonio who, also, came on his own and with an untold story painted on the marks on his face. Every day they anxiously wait to see who's next, if anyone ever does, come up their doorstep.

"Ludwig? You called for me?" Feliciano peered into the study, his eyes darting about for the German. The tall blonde was sitting at a small desk with a couple dozen books stacked upon it. The other was sleep deprived and appeared stressed as he turned to face his partner.

"Yes, yes. I did." Ludwig mumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. "I wanted a check up on everyone here. And to let you know that I feel like I'm coming closer to establishing a way to live in this whole environment."

Feliciano was Ludwig's eyes in the house. Of course, Ludwig was in charge here since it was his home and that was the position he always held, but a majority of his time was locked away in the study. He made it his duty to educate and plan out strategies and ideas of how to get the world back into order and to save everyone if possible. (Do not confuse this act as heroic. In times like this, there is no heroism. There is only surviving.) So, he kept Feliciano as his look out and observer. He kept him up to date on how everyone was, any new arrivals, or if anything stirs the silence.

"Rodriech is relaxing a bit." The Italian said with a clearing of the throat. His voice wasn't the airy, delicate voice he had in the past. No, his voice was much clearer and bolder now. Not a surprise during these times but just a difference that should be pointed out. "He still sits at the dining table and fiddles with the upholstery. I never see him do anything more than that... Antonio is more lively now. He helps me fix up the meals and take watch outside. But he still hasn't opened up- I doubt he will though."

"And Gilbert?" Ludwig interjected, interested about the others but more concerned about his brother.

Feliciano's face fell slightly when the spotlight was put on Gilbert. "He's.. quiet. I just saw him sleeping so that's a good sign. Usually he never sleeps and stays up at the window."

"I don't see it as a good sign." Ludwig said softly, staring at the wall blankly. "That just means his body failed him and demanded that he slept just once."

"I guess..." Feliciano murmured, rubbing his arm awkwardly. "It's odd seeing him so quiet and out of it. Sometimes he doesn't even eat and Antonio and I have to persuade him to. And whenever we talk to him he always mentions... her."

The day Gilbert arrived at their steps, he was alone. The moment he was greeted by Ludwig and Feliciano, they found him distressed and curled up at the foot of the door in hysterics. He didn't speak for a week and merely locked himself away in his room. It seemed like ages before they could lure him out and get some words out of him. Even then, his words were scarce. And whenever he did talk, he talked about her. _Her_. Since the day he came out of his room, he sat by any window open and stared outside and awaited for any miraculous sign of her. He thought of nothing but her. He was attached to any open sign that may lead him to her. Any time wasted on not looking for her was regretted. So, he took as much time- every second every minute every day- to look for her.

Ludwig sighed, nodding as he got what he was saying. It wasn't a surprise. "I see..."

A long pause was set out between them as what was said was taken into Ludwig's mind. Everyone seemed to be okay, more or less. So, no use of putting aside his work momentarily.

"How about you? Are you doing well?" Ludwig's question broke through the still air, causing Feliciano to snap out of his thoughts.

"Oh, me? Yes, yes... I'm doing fine." He replied with a forced smile. This was obviously a lie and Ludwig saw right through it. He always did and Feliciano always failed to remember what the use of lying was with Ludwig.

The German sighed, looking over at the Italian with a faint pitiful stare. "I'm still looking for a solution. I haven't found anything yet. Don't worry, I'm still working. We'll get him back."

Feliciano blinked, gulping uneasily. "Okay.. Thank you.." He cleared his throat and stepped back a bit. He always was uneasy when this topic came up. However, hearing Ludwig's words did soothe his minor worries. "I think I better go. Antonio and I need to, um, get the evening food stash ready."

"Alright." Ludwig said, staring at Feliciano with a pure look of care and concern. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will."

— — — — — —

"Fratello? You awake?" Feliciano asked, peering into the dim lit room. He closed the door behind him and stood at the foot of the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "Ludwig said he was still helping us. He hasn't found anything yet but I know he'll find something soon."

A groan snaked around the room in response to what had been said. Feliciano chuckled uneasily, hearing his brother move ever so slowly where he laid.

"How are you feeling today? Any better?" Feliciano spoke once more, taking a little step closer to his brother.

Lovino's frail and thin figure could barely be seen through the dim lit room. He stood up and shakily turned around to face his sibling. At this, Feliciano smiled slightly.

"Y-You understood me, right?" He asked as small tears painted his cheeks. "Lovi, you're going to be okay. I know you are. You just have to wait a little longer, okay? Is that okay?"

 _Clang_

Lovino lunged at Feliciano, leaning as far as he could to reach him. His wrists were locked onto metal chains that were connected to the farthest wall from the door. His lips curled into a growl as his jaw snapped as he tried to, once again, reached his brother who was so close yet so far. Feliciano felt more tears well up in his eyes as he stared into the deadpanned, misty eyes of his dear brother. Dried blood smeared the corners of his mouth and drenched his clothes. A deep, infectious cut was clearly seen engraved upon the side of his neck.

"L-Lovino, please..." Feliciano choked out, inching hesitantly closer towards his brother. His teary hazel eyes stared into the emptiness of the other's. In response, the southern Italian snarled and pulled at the metal chains binding him from touching Feliciano. "Brother.. Y-You're going to be okay. I promise. Ludwig will fix you. H-He always makes things right..."

He shakily reached over to put a hand over the bony one quickly before he could get a touch back.

"Fratello... Y-You'll be okay..."

_  
 **Author's Note:**

 **Decided to throw in a little surprise chapter. Thought it was time to put in a new part of the story, heh. I hope you guys enjoyed it :)**

 **Please leave your feedback and thoughts in the comments/reviews! I love to hear them and they motivate me to keep writing 3**


	20. Here? -Finland, Denmark-

How nice would it be to have a silent night? A peaceful night with nothing to stir its purity. A night where all dreams that came were calming and soothing to the mind. A night where you could let down all defensive boundaries because you genuinely feel safe. A night with no worries, no danger. A night like that seems perfect, right? However, that being said, what follows a perfect night is a perplexed morning. 'Cause no night could simply be that perfect, especially in the apolocalypse.

Tino woke up abruptly, his eyes widening as he looked around his resting spot. There was no sound to wake him nor any one that stirred him awake from his sleep. It was more like a sudden thought that jolted him awake. Blinking away his last strands of sleepiness, he looked about the shop. Mathias was curled up in a fetal position where he fell asleep the night previously. He was obviously still asleep. Next to the Dane was a laid out coat.

Suspicion rising in him, Tino crawled over to the coat. It was Berwald's coat. He usually slept on it every night when they would go to sleep. However, as the male came closer to it he noticed how smooth it was. There were no wrinkles or weight imprinted creases on it. Of course this could mean that Berwald had smoothed it out and had already awoken but the balance of probability said otherwise if looking at other conclusions.

"Mathias." The Finnish man whispered over to the sleeping blond. Mathias shifted a bit before slowly pushing himself up in a sitting position.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Did Berwald come back last night? He said he was going to look around to see if it was safe to sleep... Did he come back?"

Tino's eyes were hard and coated with concern and a hint of anxiousness. The last thing he could remember was seeing the taller other walk out for a quick perimeter walk. He couldn't recall seeing or hearing the other return.

 _What if he's gone? Did he leave? What if something happened— no. No, don't think that. This is Berald we're talking about. He wouldn't be hurt. That can't happen. That's not like him._

"No, I don't remember him coming back." Mathias responded, looking at the vacant sleeping area with the same concern. A silence filled the room as his answer settled into Tino's mind. Tino blinked almost robotically as he felt his mind work furiously while his stomach turned uncomfortably.

Oh no. This wasn't good. Tino felt his heart race as he stared down at the jacket, his eyes now glistening with fear and... He felt his breathing pick up as everything around him seemed to flicker in and out of focus. _Dad! Help!_ Stop. _P-Peter! Stay alive, I'm right here_. Not again. _Your fault_. Shut up. _You killed him_. No. _And look here. Now he's going to die too_. Please. _Your fault_!

"Let's find him." Tino blurted out hastily, jumping to his feet before Mathias could oppose or agree. Mathias blinked, a bit surprised at his quickness and change of tone. He seemed so soldier-like now. His whole demenor had changed in a second and a look of brokenness shined through his eyes. Mathias couldn't tell whether this was a good sign or not. Nonetheless, he followed the Finnish male outside.

Outside was still. There were no biters seen at first and the roads around were bare. The only noticeable movement was the newspaper flying through the low breeze in the air. The sun was just rising from the east, casting long shadows from the stationary cars and debris from other buildings. There was no other life seen. Mathias shuddered at the stillness of everything. It chilled his bones at how the world looked as if it were frozen in time and he was damned into it.

Tino hunched over a bit as he examined the ground around the shop. There had to be something, anything, that could tell them where he went. Of course, the most logical solution would be to call out his name and see if he responds. But this was the apocalypse. Calling out a name could only make matters worse. Noise awoke danger and that was something that was trying to be avoided in this situation. So, it was best to search in silence. That didn't help Tino. The longer he looked about the more anxious he got. His thoughts grew louder at every passing seconds, causing him to wince and flinch every now and then.

"Check the other side." He ordered Mathias as his agitation increased. Mathias looked at him oddly, taking note of his odd behavior but thought that is was best to just agree and go check the other side of the shop.

"Alright."

He walked around the corner, squinting his eyes as he tried to deduce anything from the stuff around him. A broken glass bottle. A rat carcasse. Empty cardboard boxes. Blown away dirt caking the edges of the shop walls. Nothing really struck any relation to Berwald. It was just the common things you'd find outside of the back area of a shop. However, right before he decided to go back to Tino, Mathias noticed something glinting up at him from the floor.

It was glasses. Berwald's glasses.

"Hey, Tino." The Dane called out, walking closer to the object. "I think I found something—" His voice faltered as a lump formed in his throat.

"What is it?" Tino walked up to his side as he, too, knelt down to get a look at the glasses. Right when it became clear to his eyes, his face paled. Blood. Blood splattered the front of the glasses and seemed to drip from the sides of them. This could mean that Berwald was bleeding from the head and took a blow to the side. Or it could mean that he killed something and got it splattered over his face. Then again, why would he just leave his glasses cracked and bloodied on the floor? That could only mean one thing: danger.

 _He's dead, isn't he? He's dead. Him too. I didn't make sure that he came back safely and now I've killed him. This is my fault isn't it?— of course it's your fault. It's always your fault. Peter. Now Berwald. You're nothing but a killer— I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to— that doesn't make a difference. You still did it.— But— You monster. You're the cause of all their deaths._

This was obviously over thinking, but that's what happened. You'd be surprised how over-the-top thinking people did in this life.

"Tino? You okay?" Mathias turned his head to the side a bit as he looked over at the Finnish male. He noticed the paleness in his face and quick breathes the other was making. He quickly spoke again in hopes of soothing him. "Berwald might not be dead. These are just his glasses. He's probably out there in hiding from something- we just need to find him. It's not too late, okay? He's still—"

"Dead." Tino interrupted, his voice shaky as he took a wobbly step backwards. "He's dead. They're both dead. They're dead. They're dead on my name. I killed them."

Mathias blinked, shaking his head quickly in response to what was said. "No. No, no you didn't kill him. Tino, you're not thinking straight." He held a hand out to out it on his shoulder but Tino flinched back, his eyes staring blankly at the floor. The words spoken made it through one ear then came out the other. The thoughts in Tino's head seemed to wrap their dark chains around his mind again, pulling him down once more. He was losing himself... again.

"You're wrong, you're wrong." Tino choked out, his words coming out breathy and shaky as he tried to steady himself. No. He can't succumb to this again. He can't lose himself again. No. He couldn't. "D-Don't you see? I killed him just like I did Peter. They're both gone because I didn't protect them. I didn't make sure he was safe before I slept. I didn't get to Peter on time. I did it. Can't you see?!"

A strained laugh escaped the Finnish male's lips. His eyes were dull yet clearly showed exactly what he was feeling inside. The cracks in his pupils were coming to view once again as he felt his mind overpowering him.

Mathias looked around, praying that Berwald would show up miraculously. Why was Tino like this? What was happening? He sounded like a mad man right now. Where was the reserved, blunt guy he was talking to the previous night? Who was the shaking, insane person standing before him? Berwald would know exactly how to address this situation since this happened many times before. However, Mathias had just been reunited with them and had now knowledge of the other's ill mentality.

Before Mathias said anything else, Tino pulled out his handgun and stared at it with a sickening grin. He moved the gun around carelessly, occasionally pointing it towards his own face.

"Tino, put the gun down." The Dane said suddenly with concern lathering his voice. He didn't know what the other had in mind. He didn't know if he was going to shoot himself or shoot him or shoot something that didn't need to be shot. He didn't know what was happening but what he did pick up was that Tuno wasn't mentally stable. That was obvious. "Put it away before you hurt anyone or your self–"

When Mathias reached over to Tino to put down the gun, Tino gasped softly and jumped back. He stared at the other surprised, his mad expression never changing. The hand on the gun tightened in grip as his finger played around the trigger. "Oh? Oh no. Don't come near me. I might hurt you too." He let out a chuckle as he stepped backwards a bit. The gun was raised up a bit before its metal was gently pressed against the side of his head. Mathias felt his breathing hitch as he watched the other point the gun to his own temple. Tino stared at him with those broken eyes once again, his finger resting upon the trigger. "I just end up hurting everyone, huh?"

"Tino, stop."

"I'm the cause of it all. Wouldn't it be best to just—"

"Put the gun down!"

"—get rid of the pest?"

 _Bang_

Tino gasped as he felt himself being tackled down to the floor. His gun fired but ended up hitting the shop wall to the side of them. Mathias was on top of the other, struggling to keep him down and taking the gun from him. Tino grunted as he tried to get the Dane off of him.

"G-Get off of me!" Tino shouted, his hands fumbling for the trigger of the gun once again. Mathias panted as he tried to keep the other male's arms pinned down so he could grab the gun. It was a surprise to see how strong Tino was now. Before he would be so delicate and never being able to carry things for more than twenty pounds. Now Mathias felt himself breaking out in a sweat as he wrestled with the man below him.

Right when Mathias managed to get an opening to grab Tino's wrists he felt metal being pressed against his forehead. He froze as Tino stared up at him with the same distorted smile.

"T-Tino.." Mathias whispered, feeling his own face pale as he stared at the gun between his eyes.

Tino took in a short, wobbly breath, not moving from what he was doing. "I'm going to hurt you, too. I will. I will hurt and kill you too, just like how I did with the others. But now, it'll legitamitely be on my hand." He let out a light laugh, moving the gun's aim up and down. "Will I kill you here?" Head. "Here?" Chest. "Here?" Stomach. "Here?" Heart. "Or here?" Center face. "Let's choose."

Mathias felt his heart stop momentarily as the Finnish male muttered to himself upon where he would shoot. This wasn't good. With Berwald gone, this is how Tino changed to be. A dangerous man with the psychotic belief that he must kill/hurt the ones he love. The fearful Dane looked around for anything to help get away or save himself. Unfortunately, there was nothing.

"Three.."

 _Was this it? Was I to be killed by my own family?_

"Two.."

 _I guess so.._

"One."

 _I'll see you soon, Lukas_.

"Fire—"

 _Bang_

A loud gunshot broke through the air. Mathias flinched as he heard the gun go off. Silence. He blinked, looking down.

"O-Oh my God."

Mathias's mouth opened in shock as he stared down at a bloodied Tino. The top of his head was blown and had splattered Mathias in the face with blood and brains. His broken eyes now shone dull and lifeless as they forever stared up at him. His mouth was relaxed with a sad smile ever so slightly tilting the corners of his lips. The hand which held his gun still pointed up towards Mathias.

"Need help?"

Berwald stood above the two, a gun in his firm hand. His eyes were unreadable along with the expression on his face. Bruises were blotched across his forehead as a small cut was made across the edge of his head- nothing severe. His hand holding the gun hesitated a bit as he went to put the object back into his pocket. Mathias blinked, his whole attention being disoriented by what just happened.

Seriously, what did just happen? A moment ago, Berwald was thought to be dead. That made Tino go all crazy and self and overall destructive. Which lead to Mathias trying to restrict the man from committing suicide which made a dark turn to nearly ending his life. Now Tino laid dead on the ground with his brains blown out by Berwald who happened to be alive. Confusing? Yes.

"Y-You shot Tino." Mathias mumbled, slowly getting off of the Finnish man's lifeless body. He scooted back from where he sat on the floor, looking from Tino to Berwald. "He's dead.. He's dead.. You shot him before he shot me.. He.."

Berwald nodded silently as he, too, looked down at Tino. A part of him didn't feel remorse for the action he did. Yes, he did just kill the man he loved so dearly but part of him knew it was the right thing to do. Tino wasn't Tino. This man wasn't the man he knew years before. This man was a broken minded person who suffered every passing day while being driven close to insanity and being a harm to not only himself to others around him. It would only be a matter of time before someone's death really was logically in his hands, whether that be his own or someone else's. Plus, Berwald knew if he had spoken with the old Tino, the real Tino, he would've wanted this for himself too.

The other part of him obviously felt some remorse due to his loved one's blood being spilled was by his own hand. That was something he was going to have to live with for who knows how much longer he treads this earth.

"Yes, I did." Berwald responded quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I didn't, he would've killed you. And by the time that happened, he would've killed himself."

Mathias, still having a well mind and reasonable thinking, took a moment to process all that was done and what Berwald said. Yes.. That was true.. If Tino hadn't been slain right now, then he would've been the one lying there dead. Then, by what he heard the other say moments earlier, he could've went on a killing rampage and murdered more people. So, maybe it was safe that they stopped him.

Berwald cleared his throat, holding out a hand for Mathias. "I found a map to Berlin." He said, forcefully trying to avoid speaking more upon what happened. "We're fairly close to it from here. Also, I, um, might have found a car we could... use to drive there, if probable." The Swedish male stared at the Dane, always being unable to comprehend during such uncomfortable positions he'd rather not be in- especially one like this. "Do.. Do you need help getting up?"

Mathias gulped, nodding slowly as he continued to try and process everything. It all happened so fast. Everything. So much was taking place that it was making his head spin. Wasn't it just a moment ago he was growing uncomfortable with the sight that felt like time had stopped? Now it was as if time was racing his present consciousness. He reached up and grasped Berwald's hand to pull him up. "Yeah.. Thanks–"

Suddenly, Mathias yelped in pain as he felt the ground beneath pull him back down. A sharp pain pierced through his side as he made the attempt to stand up with Berwald's help.

"Mathias!"

The voice was distant. Was it Berwald? Well, it had to be. Only living person there. Mathias blinked, his eyelids heavy as he did so. He looked up at the swirling image of Berwald as he watched the other scramble to his side. Very faintly, he felt someone slip their hands underneath him and hold himself up. Was someone carrying him? He couldn't tell. Everything was a blur.

What he could tell clearly though was the stickiness on his side. Something warm and sticky was there growing by the second. Mathias winced as his side throbbed in pain as he continued to weakly think up reasons of why this all happened.

 _What's going on? Time's moving too fast, too fast. I can't keep up._

That's when it hit him, and hit Berwald too as he stared down at the Dane in his arms. Mathias was shot. A bullet wound in the side caused by Tino at the moment of his death. The exact second he pulled the trigger was at the same time Berwald did towards him. That explains why the gun shot was so loud. It was two guns in unison.

Mathias felt his breathing grow shallow as he thought this over. Mentally, he laughed bitterly.

 _Huh, you really did kill me, didn't you? You weren't lying._

Berwald was talking again but Mathias never heard what he said for darkness had pulled him down under.

 ___  
 **Author's Note:**

 **Yikes, sorry I wanted to make this chapter a bit longer since that's what a couple of you've been asking but now I feel I rushed it.** **Although, I kinda did purposefully rush it so you, the reader, could get a feel of how Mathias felt when all this happened.**

 **But I hope you liked it :)**

 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love reading them and they inspire me to keep writing!**


	21. Red Metal -FACE Family-

**Author's Note:**

 **Before you read!**

 **Please listen to the song 'Moon and Me' from The Addams Family musical.**  
 **Here's the link to the song: /QYvPeSTS5zY**

Berlin. That was where everyone is headed. Berlin. The safe haven that was spoken about before the apocalypse even began. Berlin. It was still holding up high and tight. It still was a safe haven. Berlin. Where every living nation traveled to go to. It was the main goal in mind; the main reason they are all alive. They had to get to Berlin. Berlin was where everything would be mended and saved. That was where they had to go.

...

Francis sat in the driver's seat, eyes locked on the road before him. He managed to find a well working truck a couple miles from where their cabin was. It was best of luck since vehicles like these were scarce to come by. Matthew sat in the passenger seat, eyes scanning the passing scenery around them. Arthur sat in the back seat next to Alfred, who ever so slightly curled up against the corner of the door and back of his seat.

Let's get one thing straight: they were not okay. They were not the 'perfect' family in the apocalypse. Perfection does not exist. Individually they were not okay. Since he woke up, the Brit had been a bit dull in mind. There had been times where he zoned out or forgot certain things and had to be reminded. No, it wasn't something significant (yet) but it was just a little set back. Francis took notice of this but didn't mention it since it wasn't that big. Maybe it'll wear off..

Adding onto that, Arthur and Francis hadn't seen their sons for months. All that time from when they last saw each other to their reunion was a mystery. From the time they were reunited, Francis had kept a keen eye on the two boys, taking note of every odd quality they had. Arthur had started to do the same, especially with Alfred.

Arthur sighed as the car droned on down the road as he recalled the conversation he and Francis shared before they took off.

 _"Something seems off.." Francis had said. "When I first saw them, they didn't appear like the boys we knew in the past. I don't know exactly what but there is something wrong."_

 _"I know, I can sense it too." Arthur had responded. "I worry about them, Francis. I do. We may have gotten them back but there's something off about it."_

 _Francis nodded, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. "Listen. How about this: you watch Alfred and I'll watch Matthew. Let's just watch them and keep an eye to see if they are okay and.. just to make sure they are well. I don't want to be direct and ask them about things in case they don't wish to talk about it..."_

And, that's what they agreed on. From the car ride to however longer, Arthur would watch Alfred and Francis would watch Matthew. Henceforth where they sat in the car. Both fathers were very concerned with their sons and having the fortune and blessing of being with them again they wanted to make sure they took care of the two as much as they could.

Arthur glanced over at Alfred and saw him lean against the car door. His eyes were unblinking and stared down at his lap. His hands were clasped together in his lap and occasionally scratched his palms. His body was stiff where he sat despite the lack of danger around them. Arthur looked at Francis' composure. His was relaxed and his movements were smooth. He looked back at Alfred. Alfred was hard and choppy with every slight movement he made. That wasn't good.

Francis looked at Matthew from the corner of his eye. The Canadian never took his eyes off of the land they traveled through. His purple hues were hard and alert every passing second. Unlike Alfred, Matthew seemed a bit more relaxed. Stance wise, he wasn't stiff. He was calm, yet he wasn't. It was hard to put a description to it and Francis couldn't piece it together. The Frenchman noticed that with such swiftness, Matthew would glance over at Alfred. Why? Ah, Francis refrained himself from looking at Alfred since Arthur was watching him.

Alfred and Matthew. Their stories mysterious to everyone but themselves. Their stories connected to each other. A story that Arthur and Francis longed to hear but had too much consideration to not directly ask them for it.

"Alfred," Arthur spoke softly, causing the American to jump a bit, "Um, want to play a car game? We always played those when we drove to world meetings." Matthew blinked, turning his head a bit to listen and look at what Alfred's response was.

Alfred looked over at Arthur and nodded with a small smile. "Yeah, sure. Let's play. Yeah."

Arthur smiled back, keeping note at how his voice was a bit uncertain as he agreed. "Alright. Do you want to play I Spy? That was always fun."

Francis smiled a bit as he recalled the past memories of their family car trips. At times when he would force them all to spend quality time together and go on vacations they would always pass the time with a fun car game. Of course, it took a while to get games started since there always was arguing on who chose the game. Seeing how there was no arguing now was another odd thing to keep a note on.

"Okay.. I like that game.." Alfred mumbled, licking his lips awkwardly. He looked outside, his eyes clumsily looking at what was visible. "Um, I spy.. with my little eye.. something tall and green."

Arthur looked outside to find what Alfred was hinting at. His clues were quite easy and semi direct considering the only tall green things were the trees around. Arthur could've easily asked a harder one, and that's something Alfred always did. They would ask each other the hardest ones they could think of in attempts to stump the other. That competition didn't seem to matter now.

"Is it.. a tree?" Arthur guessed, pretending to actually not completely know. Alfred chuckled quietly and nodded. "Yeah.. You got it."

Matthew didn't turn to watch his brother but he kept his ears in tuned to the other. Francis noticed this, wondering why he was so observant of his brother. Sure, the two always were aware of each other but Matthew seemed even more. Now that he thought about it, Francis always saw the Canadian by Alfred's side and if he wasn't he was keeping a sharp eye on him. It was as if he was concerned for his well being 24/7.

"Do you know how far we are from Berlin?" Matthew questioned out of the blue, keeping his main focus on Alfred.

Francis looked over at him then at the map on the arm rest to his side. "We aren't too far. Maybe three hours if we continue going at this rate. We might be delayed if we run out of gas, but with what we have now we'll get a lot of ground covered." He noticed Matthew nod shortly as thoughts were quickly made. He could tell he was thinking because his eyes weren't focused on the road before them but merely stared at it with no thought relating to it.

"Okay, just making sure." Matthew responded after a moment, taking a look at the map himself.

"Don't worry." Francis assured, giving the other a little smile. "We'll get there. I promise." The smile wasn't returned. But what was exchanged was another nod and sigh. The Frenchman's smile disappeared as he furrowed his brow slightly as he thought about Matthew. He would always return his smiles, always. There never was a time where he never gave him a smile back.

Arthur and Alfred continued to play the car game, Alfred doing it with such beginner's skill and Arthur playing along whilst observing him. He came to notice how playing the game with Alfred was much like playing a game with a toddler. Everyone knows when you play with a child you make the easiest problems seem hard just to make them feel like they're smart and great even though they aren't. It's like a grown man letting a child win at arm wrestle to make it seem he was better and stronger than him. That's how Arthur felt with Alfred. The other was so easy played and had the faintest demeanor of a child.

"My turn.." Arthur said once he guessed Alfred's observation. "I spy with my little eye.." He looked outside the car for something to describe. A stop sign was in sight. "I spy something red and metal."

Alfred's breathing hitched at that description, his eyes widening. His hands started to tremble as he stared unblinkingly at the car seat before him. Red and metal. Red and metal. Red and metal. Those two words echoed and repeated over and over in his head like a broken record. "R-Red and metal.. Red and m-metal.."

Arthur looked over at the American, concern flushing through his face. "Alfred? What's wrong?"

Tears welling up in his eyes, Alfred started to feel his breathing pick up and come in quick, short breathes. His trembling hands went up to grasp his arms as if attempting to hug himself. Under his breath, he mumbled different words that related to what would be red and metal, "P-Pipe.. Chains.. Kn-Knife.." Matthew, who had been paying attention to the whole entire game, quickly unbuckled his seat belt.

"Keep driving." The Canadian ordered to Francis as he climbed back quickly to the seat.

"What's happening?" Francis asked quickly, looking back at the back seat from the driver's mirror. His question was ignored. All he could see was Alfred shaking in the back and whimpering while Arthur tried to talk to him.

"Alfred? Hey, calm down. What's wrong? Are you okay?" The anxious Brit questioned softly, worried of what was happening with Alfred. One moment they were playing a game and the next moment the American is freaking out in the back seat. Was it something he said?

Matthew hopped into the back, wedging himself in the middle section between Alfred and Arthur. He turned to Alfred, gently taking the other's hands into his. Alfred flinched at the touch and continued to whimper and pant where he sat.

"Alfred, hey. Hey, look at me." Matthew spoke in a sweet tone, urging for the American to look him in the eyes. "It's okay, it's okay. We're okay, right? We're in the car. We're with Arthur and Francis. We're going to Berlin- the nice place." Note: he didn't say 'safe'. "There's nothing bad here. We're in the car with family."

Alfred shook his head, his eyes staring down at his lap as he struggled to intake air. He was hyperventilating, which obviously worried the hell out of Arthur and Francis but didn't seem to with Matthew. He shrunk away from his brother while attempting to pull his knees up to his chest for more comfort. His mind was spinning and every little thing was shattering his delicate nerves.

"R-Red metal.. Red m-metal.." Alfred repeated, his voice cracking into a sob. "Metal.. Red.. Not again, not again.. I don't want.. D-Don't.. They're coming again.. Th-They found us.. They.. Red.. All red.. Nothing red.. Metal.. Sharp metal-" A loud cry broke out from him as he shook even more where he sat. Fresh tears ran down his face and in between his fingers as he covered his face.

 _"Haha! Look at him boys!"_

Alfred cried out as flashes of voices yelled into his ears from memories.

 _"Quit your crying, you shouldn't feel a thing."_

 _"Want another one?!" Hit. "And another?!" Hit. "Let's go for ten this time!" Hit. "That's more like it!"_

The American's cries increased as vivid scraps of memories flew past him. What if they came for him again? What if they're going to take him back? What if Matthew was going to be taken away again? What if he was to be locked up again? What if they were going to hit him again? What if-

Francis looked back quickly then back at the road, debating whether he should stop the car or not. He would've but Matthew had spoke to him so seriously he thought it was best he didn't. That was another observation he held. The Canadian was much more.. leader like now. The quiet, 'follower' boy was no where to be seen. Cause here he was rushing to help in the blink of an eye and giving orders to his father.

"Shh, shhh.. Alfred.." Matthew whispered softly, slowly snaking a hand behind the American's back and pulling him into a gentle hug. Alfred stiffened even more at that but didn't pull away since this was Matthew. "It's okay, it's okay.. I'm here and I'll protect you, okay? Nothing's going to harm you.. not while I'm around." He rubbed Alfred's back as he spoke, keeping his hug firm yet soft. "You trust me, right?"

Alfred didn't say anything but Matthew took this as a 'yes'. So, he continued to hold his shaking brother in his arms.

"Wanna sing the song?" Matthew whispered softly, never taking his eyes off Alfred. Yes, the song. The song always was an effective thing to calm the other. The American gave a small nod as Matthew let out a little chuckle. "Okay.." With that, he began to sing: "When the daylight ends.. And the moon ascends. I would rather be, just the moon and me.."

It was a song from a musical that came from a well known comic and tv show in the United States. The song was sung in a sweet tune that could equally be heard as a lullaby. Truth be told, it was one of Alfred's favorite songs and one he would sing almost every night if he had the chance (or remembered). So hearing it almost always soothed his nerves- especially when he was like this.

Arthur watched the two, his eyes still filled with worry and confusion. The two fathers watched Matthew continue with the sweet song: "When I feel her pull, then my heart is full.. And the night is softly, sweetly calling.. Alfred, look and see!"

Alfred sniffed, lifting his head up a bit. His voice was extremely quiet compared to Matthew's but he sang along with the next verse: "La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la... it's a dream that's coming true.. When the moon says 'I love you.'"

They didn't continue on with the rest of the lyrics but Matthew merely hummed the rest while stroking Alfred's hair gently. The American hummed quietly as well, feeling his nerves and mind settle back into a calm state- or at least the state he was before his whole panic scene happened. That song was sung every time Alfred had one of his freak outs. Matthew would sing it as he urged Alfred to sing along at that part and then continued to hum the rest. That's the little routine the Canadian planned out with his brother to make sure he was okay.

As the two brothers hummed to each other, Arthur and Francis both continued to sit where they were, getting their final observations.

Francis: _Something must've happened.. Something traumatising. I've never seen Matthew so in-charge and strong. Usually it's Alfred taking care of him whenever it came to little scares or just nerves. It's as if their roles were switched since now Matthew was the one comforting and aiding to him. Even before it all happened he was still keeping a good eye out for him out of protection and his safety. I wonder what happened..._

Arthur _: Alfred... What happened to you? I've never once seen you in such a state. You were always so cheerful and strong and unfazed by anything. Nothing used to scare you or send you down like that. You always were so loud and carefree... What happened? It's as if your personality (lacking the enthusiasm and happy-go-lucky) was switched over to Matthew. God.. I wonder what happened.. and if there's any way to help you._

No words. No words were spoken from that point on. Matthew remained in the back middle seat close to Alfred. Alfred stayed awake and jumpy in the little corner of the seat. Arthur stared out the side window, his mind working quickly and heart hurting. He didn't mean to upset the American, and he really wished to know what happened to them. If anyone hurt him.. oh boy, were they in for a shit storm if they crossed paths with the Brit. Francis continued to drive, occasionally glancing back at them then back to the road.

There was something missing with the family. Yes, they weren't the perfect, well minded family in the apocalypse. They were no different than everyone else enduring the nonstop horrors that happened every day. Two fathers distant yet close to their broken sons. One father facing mild memory problems, the other carrying the concern and worry of his family. One brother broken and scared beyond belief for who knows what and why, and the other brother putting obligations on himself to protect and be with his sibling.

An hour passed and Alfred had fallen asleep leaning against the car door. They were only twenty miles away from Berlin, which relaxed Matthew ever so slightly. Nonetheless, he kept a sharp eye out for Alfred and for the world around them. Arthur had kept silent, uneasy with his word choice since he didn't want to trigger anything again. Francis continued driving, frequently humming under his breathe to keep his spirits up.

After a moment, Arthur couldn't keep silent anymore. He turned over to Matthew, biting his lip awkwardly. "Matthew.. What happen—"

"Come out on the truck bed with me." Matthew whispered over to Arthur, scooting a bit away from Alfred as if not to wake him. He had been anticipating their curiosity. "I'll explain back there. I can't talk about it here." The Canadian leaned forward a bit into the driver's side, smiling out of kindness and comfort. "Don't stop the car, okay Papa? We'll go through the back window."

It was key Francis kept driving. No matter what- if Alfred had another breakdown or all hell broke loose- Matthew had to make sure the car kept going. The longer they took, the longer it'd be till Alfred got to Berlin. Berlin was said to be a safe space, right? That's what Ludwig announced. So, quite possibly, that could be the safe place for Alfred to fully recover and be at peace.

Carefully, the Brit and Canadian climbed through the back window of the truck and sat in the trunk bed. It was dusty and filthy- just like the rest of the world- and had a few random scraps of garbage and rubble from who knows where. Arthur sat in the corner against the back and Matthew sat opposite. They merely sat there in silence whilst listening to the crunching gravel below the running tires.

"I know about yours and Francis's little game with watching us." Matthew spoke after a minute or so, still keeping his eyes on the moving scenery. "I heard you guys and could tell with your hard stares. I know you and Papa. I can tell when you guys are concerned.."

"It's been so long since we've seen you.. and you both are so different from when we last met." Arthur sighed, glancing over at the other. His emerald eyes shined as he looked up at the blue sky, his mind drifting off a bit. He snapped back to focus when Matthew cleared his throat.

"To aid your guys' worries, I'll tell you what happened." The other said, looking over to his father. "Knowing you both, you'd probably go to drastic measures to find out since we can never keep secrets with you two." A little chuckle escaped his lips before he began his story...

"So this is what happened..."

 **Author's Note:**

 **I would like to dedicate this chapter to my dear reader who brought up the fact that this family had been seemingly given the "good life" in the apocalypse. I originally made it so they were the good chapters with the least amount of angst and tears, but then I came to realize that it wasn't fair to the others. So, voilà! Here was my plan B for the family. You're welcome :)**

 **Also, yes, sorry for the cliffhanger lmao. I was going to include the story behind Alfred and Matthew in this chapter but the amount of words were annoying me and I wanna set it up a certain way. But don't worry! I'll probably upload the next chapter in a couple days- you (most likely) won't have to wait a week.**

 **Thank you again, A True Shipper on Fanfiction! I really appreciated your review and critique!** **️**

 **As usual;**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please leave your feedback in the reviews/comments!**


	22. Unspoken History -FACE Family-

"Alfred and I were in New York during the outbreak."

Matthew began unveiling the mystery behind his and Alfred's whereabouts and history during the apocalypse. Arthur sat intently where he was on the truck bed, listening to everything the other was saying.

"That's a horrible place to be during that time since it's so populated and it's hard to travel anywhere. At first, we were all set to stay there in the states or even go up to my country to hide out since that was the best idea to do at the moment. However, Alfred reminded me that Ludwig had informed us to go to Berlin if anything happened. Luckily, we managed to get on a military boat to take us to Europe.

"There were other Americans and some Canadians on the ship along with us. So, it could of been a rescue ship now that I thought about it. The exact details of the trip are a blur when I try to recall.. Whatever it was, it was still a well packed ship. Alfred and I bunked in with a dozen of other people in the dorms or whatever it's called. The beds were thin and closely stacked which made sleeping feel like a coffin. Alfred, of course, tried to make the best of the situation and pretended that we were on some superhero ship sailing off to adventure.

"We rode on the ship for three days without any problems. We didn't really talk to anyone there- then again, there wasn't much conversation with anyone in the ship. The only talk made was the brief announcements on the intercom from the captain. It was pretty much smooth sailing in the beginning which made the two of us feel better about it. At the start, we were both confused and concerned but, surprisingly, not scared. You know, we've all been in sudden, threatening situations before so we weren't alarmed too much by this.

"Anyways, as the next few days came around, talk started to happen. People in the ship had slowly come to realize and bring up the fact that we were those 'special goverment freaks who are the personified versions of their country'. Everyone suddenly turned to us and demanded explanations. They demanded what was happening, why it was, will it end, and countless others. Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the grief, maybe it was anger- but everyone was so hateful and rude to us when we didn't have an explanation. Alfred tried to urge the fact that all will be well with those on board and tried to keep order but that was no help. No one would believe us when we told them we couldn't help and we were as clueless as them.

Matthew paused for a moment, licking his lips anxiously as the memory played out.

"That's... That's when they turned on us. The ordinary humans and citizens of our countries. They started seeing us as the enemy. They made claims that the whole break out was our fault. That we were the reason why this was happening and we refused to tell them why."

 _"You monsterous experiments always keep secrets from your people! It always ends up with us at the suffering end of the stick!"_

"They dragged us out of our dorms and made us stay in these small rooms below. I had a room and Alfred had one. There was a small window connecting the both of us so that was how we were able to barely communicate. I could still feel the cold metal walls.."

A brief silence settled down before Matthew shook his head out of those thoughts to return back to the story.

"I had no idea what they were going to do to us. Maybe they were going to question us, maybe they were going to hold us hostage. Who knew. Anything could be possible at that moment. We were kept in those rooms without any word for a whole night. No food. No social contact. Nothing. It wasn't until morning- or at least I think it was morning- we were awoken by two fairly well built men.

"They dragged us out again, but this time in handcuffs. I was pushed out first then Alfred. While we walked up the steep steps inside the ship, I could still remember the looks passed on between the two of us. At the time, I was nervous and scared of what would happen. Alfred was, as he used to be, strong throughout it all and showed no sign of fear. I guess the men noticed that about him.. Maybe that's why they.."

No, he caught himself straying again. Matthew blinked a couple times before going back to his story.

"Anyways, they brought us out to the main deck. A majority of the people in the ship were standing around this three foot platform. It almost looked like a small stage. The two men pushed us there and forced us to stand facing those who were staring up at us from the front of the platform. That's when hell broke loose..."

 _"Ladies and gentlemen. Who we have gathered here today are the causes of our doomsday."_

"The men called out to the crowd and explained to everyone how we were the cause of their DoomsDay. They claimed that the outbreak of the dead was our plans and our intentions because of our qualities. They claimed that since we can't die, even though right now it's obvious that we are just like them, we wanted to kill everyone else. And no matter what I said.. They always believed the two men. They always did. Alfred protested against this and tried speaking up for the both of us but that only made it worse.

"Before we knew it, we were guilty of everything that was going wrong. In a suitable world, we would have to endure trial and get an equal say into our part of the matter. But that didn't happen. Order didn't exist now and everyone had free reign of their intentions... That's when they snapped us."

Arthur blinked, a bit startled at what the other said. "Snapped you? What do you mean?" It was such a harsh term to use, which wouldn't be entirely overexaggerating. Matthew looked over at him, flashing a little smile to assure him.

"Ha.. Well, as the definition they had, it was performing things on us to make us 'snap' and break as a punishment for what we were accused of doing and a way to get us to fix this. As you could tell, our hands were tied and we had nothing to help us. Everyone on that ship was against us and the only people who knew the right thing were the both of us. That didn't help us.

"We were on that ship for two months. Two months. Every night we stayed in those metal rooms. Food was given in incredibly small portions and rarely. I felt like a lost cause dog in a kennel. Some days I would sit by the door and wait for that harsh drop of a tin tray on the floor beside me. That sound was the only pleasant thing I endured during those months... I know, that doesn't sound great. But, in the conditions we were in, that was the best to have happen."

Arthur furrowed his brows as he listened to Matthew. Did they really have to go through something like this? He could just imagine the two yearning for food where they were. He didn't like the thought of them being in such a state. Before the Brit could comment on this portion, Matthew continued.

"Every day was something different... At first, they would simply beat us. Sometimes it'll be with bare fists, others it was a variety pieces of metal- there were so many things I could hardly keep track. The funny thing is.. well it's not funny but.. everyone on the ship seemed to be in on it. Every time I was brought into another session of Snapping, it was a new person. I don't think I was tortured by the same person once. Maybe I was.. I couldn't tell." He sighed.

"The first week of this, we were fine. You know us. We've been through worse things. We've seen things none of those people have ever seen. This torture was nothing. Well, that's what we thought. Alfred used to talk to me through the little window we shared and attempt to soothe my worries. Despite being through my history, I always was shaken by certain things. So Alfred always would talk to me and try and motivate me by saying how this was nothing to what we endured before. Little did we know that this would be the worst thing we would ever experience."

 _Barbed wire. Knifes. Handcuffs._

"It didn't take them that long to find our weaknesses. As how the countries no longer stand, our invincibility and never ending life now has a limit. We can die. They found that out fairly quick. How they found out I am not sure. But they did and used it to their advantage. They would hurt us to incredible measures to the point we were close to death yet not in its arms."

 _Broken breath. Blurred vision. Couldn't move._

"They would handcuff us to these two pipes- Alfred always in front of me across the room. They made sure we could see each other. At the time, Alfred would always try and help me and reassure me. He would smile and tell me I was going to be okay and he would get us out. Oh Alfred... I think that's what made him the ideal target. If only you didn't play the hero, then maybe that role wouldn't have been stripped from you."

 _Alfred was lying on the floor, whimpering through coughs of blood. Blue eyes staring at Matthew with their forever bright expression. His lips forcing into a small smile. It came out in a breathy crack, "It's okay, Mattie. It'll be okay, I promise."_

"He always assured me. He always was so strong when I was so weak... just like before. Those beginning sessions I was a scared mess. I was nervous and feared for us. Yet, Alfred was always smiling to me and gave me his comforting comments. Even when they hurt him, he still fell down in defeat with a smile and never failing heart for the good side. As he called himself, he was a hero. A hero always helped those in need and never showed their own brokenness. They always were shown as strong and confident. That was Alfred... Was.."

Matthew pursed his lips a bit.

"It only took so long before the hero's veil of empty pride was broken. In the midst of one of his talks with me during their horrid Snapping sessions, they broke it."

 _Alfred screamed as barbed wire was wrapped around his torso and ankles. One of the men in the room yanked him up from the ground and spat in his face. "Liar. You're only lying. You will fall just like how you did to us. There's no escape. We will make you suffer for what you have done to us. You caused this. Not us." Another scream as he was dropped, causing the sharp wire to pierce into him even more._

"As they hurt me, they hurt him even worse. I would cry and tremble like how I had been doing since the start but no smile or voice was there in response. The only response I got was an echo to my cry and wide, frightened eyes of my brother. He would make weak attempts to aid me but I always saw those thin strings of hope snap before my eyes. I could pin point the exact spots his spirit was continuously crushed. They didn't physically hurt me as much as they did to him, but that didn't mean I got the easy side of it all. No... No, they made me sit and watch as Alfred slowly broke and lost all strength of himself. All that strength that made him one of the world's strongest nations. All that strength that gave him the ability to manage his messy and arguing citizens. All that strength that kept his spirits up even when things got down. All that strength... taken from his own people. And I had to witness at all with the knowing I couldn't help."

 _Matthew weakly crawled over to the window of his and Alfred's cold, small rooms. Choked sobs and soft mutters could be heard from the other side of the wall. The Canadian called out hesitantly, "Alfred? Hey.. Alfred."_

 _The American didn't answer. He merely continued to mutter continuously under his breath as breathy whimpers broke through them every now and then. The words the other was saying couldn't be distinguished from Matthew. All he could get from it was that it was thoughts caused by the Americans that shattered him down to such a state._

"You know, I've always had a bad opinion on Americans when it came to their way of treating their own people." Matthew continued on, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "They're so naive and clueless to everything around them. They hurt and strip rights of those who have colored skin, beliefs of the minority, those expressing who they are, etc. They desire to keep immigrants out even though nearly every one of them are immigrants as well when it comes to family descendants. They give such horrible people chances of being the next leader of their country because of how narrow minded and cruel they are. Yes, I know other nations are like that as well but the U.S. always irritated me more than others due to how well off they are compared to others, like the terrorist countries and such, but these problems are caused mainly by the ignorance of their people who refuse to learn about the present and choose to dwell upon the past."

He shook his head, catching himself as he got off topic.

"The point is... this took things too far. They, the Americans, broke Alfred, their country, simply because that once again they refused to listen to the other side of the story and choose to act upon what they believed in such hasty thoughts. They punched him. They stabbed him. They starved him. They screamed at him. They broke him down into such a state I've never seen on anyone. They did that to Alfred. The one who took the blow and weight from their own history. People don't realize how their actions, their wars, their events, every action they make within their country, all of it.. is put on our shoulders. They have to deal with the weight temporarily. They have the ability to move on. But us? We have to feel that pain every waking day. We don't have the privlege to move on. We don't get to forget. We have to endure it all every single day. And look how they repaid Alfred."

Arthur gulped, nodding silently at what was said. It was true. The nation's never really did get into deep conversations about this. The pain felt by the weight of the history always goes unsaid and dealt with in silence and in their own hearts. Of course, now they were no longer nations which meant the built up hurt could flow freely.

"That's when I took a step up." Matthew said, his face hardening. "I had enough of their little games and fun with torturing an innocent man. I decided to be the one to reassure Alfred just like how he did with me. Just like how he always was for me and everyone for the past years. So, every time we were thrown once again into those chilling rooms, I talked to Alfred. I comforted him just like how he did with me. I soothed his cries- well attempted to. I spoke to him of how good things will be when I get us out of this. I reached out to him as much as I could despite my own injuries. However, that didn't matter. My bruises and cuts and weak body meant nothing when it came to Alfred. Alfred was and is my main concern. If it took me dying on that ship to get him out, that's what I would've done."

Matthew's expression softened slightly as he glanced up once more at the sky.

"When the ship docked in French harbor, chaos erupted. People were scrambling about since the living on the harbor demanded to get in. People on the ship realized that this whole outbreak wasn't only in their countries. Well, as they were all running about, one of the men who was in charge of watching us accidentally left our doors open. Seeing how this might be our only chance of being set free, I ran out and went into Alfred's room. He was, as he always had been, curled up in the corner of the room while weakly hugging the floor for comfort. It was obvious he couldn't escape this place on his own so I had to carry him off the ship. Luckily, there was so much going on it was easy for us to slip out of sight."

He let out a breath, turning back to Arthur.

"And so, it ties in with us now. From that harbor, I've taken Alfred with me in search for Berlin and you two. We hid out in an abandoned house for a week as a way to relax a bit and try and regain ourselves. That helped me a bit, since all that my body took in had caught up with me and I could barely make a mile a day. However with Alfred, it wasn't help at all. He was still in his fixated, jumpy self that had been broken down by his people. There was one little fleeting hope that his normal self was brought back when we were held at gunpoint at a drug store we were raiding. I saw Alfred kind of stand up for himself, shakily, but that glimpse of strength was taken away in the blink of an eye when he was shot. Which brings us to when I carried him throughout the place around, screaming for help. Which brings us to Francis hearing us and opening his cabin. Which brings us to right now..."

Matthew chuckled lightly, scratching the side of his cheek. It was a fairly long story, but it felt nice to tell. Arthur had listened intently at every word spoken. He had no idea how elaborate their story was. That all happened? They really went through all of that? He couldn't even imagine how horrible that must've been. To have something as bad as that break someone like Alfred... It was unbelievable.

The Brit cleared his throat, feeling a lump form. "I'm so sorry you both had to deal with that. Truly am. If I could turn back time so we were there with you during that time I would. Please, no that now, you're with us. You will never have to deal with anything like that ever again with us. We will protect you both. You're safe." It was an odd thing for Matthew to hear, but he nodded along with it as he still kept the idea of nothing ever being safe. Safety didn't exist to him anymore. He knew he would never let his guard down, even if he was with his fathers again. There were no breaks in the world anymore. You must be alert 24/7.

"Thanks." Matthew mumbled in response. That's all that was said. Arthur ran a hand through his hair, still taking in everything that was said. It was so much to wrap around his mind. So that explained why Alfred was like that. That explains the freak out with red metal. That explains everything about his demeanor.

Arthur decided to slip into Francis's shoes for a bit and took an observation on Matthew: _He didn't go in depth on what happened with him. Yeah, he vaguely spoke how he, too, received torture but he seemed more descriptive with Alfred. Maybe that was because he saw the other as the more important one at the moment. It's easy to understand that ever since Alfred broke and lost all strength, Matthew wished to repay him and forced himself to step up and take the leader role. Even now I can see how that idea came to play. He was first to action when Alfred broke down in the car... It's as if every second he anticipates the other's potential dangers and triggers... I hope we get to Berlin soon. They've been through so much... They deserve at least a day with no worries. I want them to be at ease, completely_.

The Brit was about to say something more upon the subject but was cut off by a very quick honk of a horn.

"You two, come back inside." Francis called out from the driver's window. "We're almost there."

Matthew smiled over at Arthur before going back through the back window. Arthur hesitated a bit, looking out at the moving scenery. Very, very far away he caught the sight of a tree falling down as if it were chopped. It was one of the fairly large trees but it was so far away he couldn't clearly tell since it was so far away. But, that didn't matter. A falling tree couldn't be that important, right?

Back in the car, Alfred had woken up from his small nap. He flinched a bit when Arthur and Matthew slid back into the car from the window beside him. Francis had spoken with him for a bit when he woke up since, as it would be expected, quite confused and worries when the other two weren't there. But Francis, how he's always been, was able to calm the other for the time being and assure him all was well.

"How much farther?" Matthew questioned as he wedged himself in the middle seat once again. Francis smiled warmly, looking at him from the driver's mirror.

"Take a look. Berlin is right here."

As he spoke this, the weary sign of 'Now Entering Berlin, Germany' appeared on the side of the road. The sign was faded slightly and in near shambles but the gloomy sight brought nothing but joy to those in the car.

Arthur and Francis grinned: _They'll be safe now_.

Matthew's lips curled into a little smile: _Alfred, you can rest._

Alfred merely stared at the passing sign: _It's our goal. It's here._

They were finally here. They finally made it. They were going to be alright. They made it to Berlin.

As they entered Berlin, another tree fell in the distance.

 **A/N:**

 **Like I said, this connects with the previous chapter. I was gonna put it all together with it but that would've been a hella long chapter so yeah. I think splitting it up was good and served as a great lil cliffhanger ;)**

 **Also, just so you know, I've decided how I will end this so the end is near. Well, not really near but it is coming close. Don't worry, characters I've kind of left off (like Ivan and Toris) will make their way into the story and other nations I haven't mentioned will be tied in. So, just expect the ending is coming soon.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love reading them.**


	23. Rest -Berlin-

The added footsteps upon the long hallways were given mixed emotions. Were they a good addition to the building or were they only weighing it down? Surely, at the start, it would've been greeted by cheers and laughter and praise. Of course, that was how they were greeted, it just wasn't the same.

Ludwig paced his study anxiously, looking at the countless books opened on their backs on the floor. Scribbles of notes and theories littered every part of the blank space between and besid the numerous paragraphs on the pages. Not one of them a clear solution to end this world wide disaster. Was this an epidemic? Was this a new gene that was made only in the recent generations? Was this an experiment gone wrong that spread onto everyone else? Was this a gasly chemical that's inescapable? Was this even curable?

"Damn it." The German grunted, slamming his fist down on his desk as he closed his eyes. Every time conflict arose in the world, he always did his best to fix it. Even if he wasn't a part of it, silently he would try and find a solution. Solving every problem he could was a habit of his and something he was good at. So when he had no clue what to do, it didn't satisfy him at all.

After wasting an hour on looking over his useless notes, he decided to take a walk through of the building. Newcomers had arrived so, as a good host (even though that meant nothing now), he should check up on them.

Ludwig strolled down the empty hallways, observing everything in sight. The walls were still intact. The floors were semi clean despite the dirt spots that clustered some corners of the rug. Silence coated the walls and sights around him. A common sight and sound.

He stopped at a door to his left which was already ajar. Voices were muffled inside but they were calm so no need to worry. Ludwig pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside.

"What? Me? Hell no. I've never resorted to drinking my piss. Damn, what the hell have you been doing, Toni?"

Mathias was sitting on a bed with fresh bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. He was smiling over at the Spaniard who threw away his old bandages in a nearby trash bin. Berwald was on the other side of the room reading a book from one of the shelves provided for them. It's been two days since they arrived.

 _"Someone! Help! Answer me, please!" A cry outside the door was made, catching Gilbert's attention. He rushed to the front entrance, pushing open the door. A tall male stumbled in whilst carrying a bleeding other with a bullet wound deep in his side._

 _When in the little fight with Tino before he was killed, Tino had shot Mathias in the side. It was a drastic injury Berwald knew it was dire that he was tended to. So, when the other blacked out, he rushed him into the car he found and drove at full speed to Berlin. The Danish male was on the brink of life and death when they arrived and it was unpredictable at the time if they made it or not._

 _Of course, Mathias was tended to greatly. Antonio and Gilbert had taken him in and mended to his injury and kept him well._

"Well, you never know what someone might do." Antonio responded, a tiny smile upturning the corners of his mouth. "I once ran into a man that said he had every member of his group pee in a jar and they all took turns drinking from it." Mathias mimicked a sick face and shook his head.

"That's gross. So glad I never had to give in to that."

Berwald looked over at Ludwig and nodded, giving a sign that everything was all right here. That was obvious. He was glad to see Mathias was doing well and got Antonio to lighten up.

After seeing all was well in that room, Ludwig exited and continued to make his way down the hall. It's times like this where he need a break from the study. No, he wasn't still looking for a cure. He knew what to do to end this whole thing. He had found that out months ago. However, that didn't mean his search was over. The resolution he discovered to everything was something he didn't want to do for everyone or have everyone do for each other. It was too much and he didn't want to put anyone into that situation. It was a horrible solution that would only be seen as the last resort. So, he continued to find another plan. Another conclusion to this whole apocalypse... But, seeing how it was getting no where, this one horrid resolution might be the only one.

Shaking that aside, he turned to his right to check up on another room. This room was closed but had a little sign taped to the front that said "Please knock before entering." Ludwig did as the sign said gently pushed open the door.

"Good afternoon, Ludwig. Please keep quiet with whatever you wish to do in here. Ivan is asleep and I wish not to wake him."

Toris was in the middle of pouring a cup of water for himself at nearby table by the bedside. Ivan lied peacefully in the bed underneath the cotton white blankets, the look of serenity on his face. A white bandage still wrapped over his right eye even in his sleep. They'd been here for a week.

 _Their arrival wasn't as dramatic nor anxious as the Danish and Swedish. The two walked up to the door as silent as ever and knocked. Ludwig was there to answer and quickly let them in._

 _It turns out after being in that cabin for a while, they continued their journey towards Berlin. However, an event the two never explained, they ran into a rough group of living people which resulted into Ivan being blinded in his right eye and Toris forever having a limp in his left leg. They were quiet for a good time when they first arrived, but that wasn't a surprise. Nearly everyone was._

"Don't worry, I won't be here for long." Ludwig said quietly, remaining where he was by the door. "I'm just checking in on everyone. How are you two?"

Toris smiled and limped over to the other side of the bed to straighten out the covers and pull them up more to Ivan's chin. Even in the apocalypse he was tending to the older male. It was common to see them go back to old ways since it gave them a familiar sense to everything so different. It's funny to see how the simplest and strangest things could be seen as comforting.

"Ah, we are okay." The Lithuanian said, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "Nothing really different from the last time you checked on us. Ivan is still quiet, but that's nothing new. He still can't see from his right eye... my leg still is how it is. We're doing okay, thank you."

The term 'okay' is used countless times in the apocalypse. It has lost the definition of 'doing good' since those who usually use it don't genuinely mean they are doing good. 'Okay' is basically a term now that gives off a fake positivity to mask the negativity the user wishes to hide or turn away from.

Ludwig sighed and gave a little nod. "Alright. If you ever need anything, let me know."

With that, he left another room.

Calm was the perfect word to describe the corridors and atmosphere. No one stirred with alert nor broke the silence. It was as still as ever with the only moving being from the wind outside. However, this calmness wasn't one Ludwig would deem relaxing or comforting. No, this was much like an abandoned dollhouse. The rooms and interior were perfectly kept yet hadn't been touched in ages. Age and dirt crept upon the corners and crevasses of the house as the figures inside waited anxiously to be played again. Every passing minute was overwhelming and unsettling to each doll. They waited frighteningly for rumbling of children's feet to burst through the walls and doors to play around with dolls once more. It was only a matter of time before that happened again.

Ludwig came to a halt where he was when he noticed Rodriech wiping clean one of the hallway windows. This must've been the hundredth time he'd done so. It was a repetitive act he did which he found comforting- to say the least. He walked over to the other and stared out the window.

"It's quiet out there." Rodriech murmured, pausing his polishing. His eyes roamed about the world outside. There were no biters in sight which was odd, but nothing that was a concern for the moment. Ludwig, too, looked outside to view the area. It was quiet. The only disturbance was the small sight of a tree falling in the distance but even that wasn't that much to be concerned about.

"Yeah, it is quiet." Ludwig replied.

"Have you found anything out yet?" The Austrian questioned blankly, going back to wiping down the already glistening glass.

"No... Not yet." The German lied, shifting his eyes from the other and back outside. That question was asked at least once a day and every day since his discovery Ludwig had to lie. Was this a good or bad thing? Was keeping the resolution beneficial to everyone or just him? It was hard to decide but Ludwig wasn't ready to give in to it. He still believed there was a better solution to all of this.

Before anymore conversation took place, the two men saw a car pulling up to the gates outside. It was truck with four noticeable figures inside. Were these more living nations?

"Ludwig! There are new people!" Feliciano came trotting up the stairs and towards the German who tore his eyes off the window.

"Yes, I see. Come with me. We need to make sure they're not dangerous."

There was only one incident where a human group of people tried to raid the place. Once was enough to set alert to everyone when someone new came along. Because since that one group threatens the household, it took the life of on of their members... and that member lives in the basement chained up while breathing in the scent of death.

Ludwig hurried down the steps and opened the front door. Feliciano followed behind wth a gun firmly in his hands, keeping it ready just in case it was needed. The truck came to a halt outside the gates as the four people came out. They were all blonde. One hid behind a shorter male as they walked forward as the other couple people walked side by side. Their clothes were matted and varied from how filthy they were by the person. The closer they came the more noticeable their features were. That's when Ludwig saw the signature details of the family. The glasses. The curl. The hair. The eyebrows.

"Is that..." Feliciano breathed, a bit surprised at the sight. He lowered his gun as he, too, watched the family draw near.

The German felt the slightest bit of weight being brought off his chest as he saw the family. Alfred, Matthew, Francis, and Arthur. One of the power families that had taken place when everything was in order. The heroic American, the loyal Canadian, the wise and great French and English. Maybe now he would finally find another and better solution with these minds. They always were full of grand ideas. Maybe they still can pitch some good ones... right? They still can, right?

Of course, as the family came closer the household, the more his spirits dropped once more.

"Feli, is that you?" Matthew called out, holding Alfred's hand firmly as they slowly walked to the front door. Alfred was shaking and crying once again with his eyes shut tight as if scared of what might lie in front of him. "Please fetch us some water and something soft if you have it." He moved along past where Ludwig stood at the doorway without saying a word. Only leading the distraught American inside while Feliciano rushed in to grab what was requested.

A broken hero.

Arthur and Francis followed behind, pure exhaust and hurt etched on their faces. From the sight of their physical beings, they were (not just them, but the whole family) incredibly thin and obviously malnourished. The aura about them gave Ludwig the feeling of unease and pity as he watched the two fathers stop before him at the steps. Their eyes were dull yet had he faintest glimpse of light only casted by their sons' being with them.

"Ludwig.. yes." Arthur murmured, looking up at the other quite tiredly. "It's been a long time."

Ludwig cleared his throat, closing the door as they stepped inside. "Yes, it's been awhile. Arthur... Francis... What-"

Francis shook his head, pursing his lips together gently as he silently begged for him not to continue his question. "Please, don't ask. Don't question the past, just leave it be for now. We'll explain when we can. Just... Please, not now."

It was a relief for them to finally make it to Berlin. From the moment it started to all the trouble and fallouts and events that had happened and led them to this, their goal was finally reached. While on their journey, they all kept a strong demeanor (or at least the strongest and toughest they could) as they progressed. But, now that they made it and all their work was rewarded, everything had dropped. Their strength. Their eagerness. Their light. Everything. They made it to the doorstep and after long months of working, they wish only but to collapse upon the bittersweet thought of making it.

Ludwig blinked, shaking away his wondering thoughts. Yes, that can wait. Questions can wait. Planning can wait. Everything can wait. The United States, Canada, France, and Great Britain just arrived. All that needs to be done now is aiding and welcoming in another living nation.

"I understand. Just... Follow me. I'll get you a room and situate everything for you." Ludwig informed. "Just rest now. You've followed the orders I gave out. You've done your part. You deserve a rest."

Rest. That's the only mandatory need for the moment. All the nations that have been known to still be alive are here. The rest have fallen and here are the remaining.

Feliciano, Ludwig, Antonio, Gilbert, Rodriech, Mathias, Berwald, Arthur, Francis, Matthew, Alfred, Ivan, and Toris. The remaining nations. The last of the old world.

Their fate lies in their own hands now.

 **_**  
 **A/N:**  
 **For anyone wondering, yes this story is coming to a close. I'm taking a guess to saying maybe 5-6 more chapters to come? Can't be for certain since I always do change my mind on how I want to space things out lol.**

 **But, I really hope you guys are liking this story. I didn't know I'd get so many interested readers since this was just an idea I had in the middle of the night haha. Nonetheless, I'm so pleased that so many of you take an interest to this story. It really means a lot.**

 **Anyways, please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love to read them and they inspire to me to keep writing :)**


	24. A Perfect Night -Berlin-

Peace. No danger, no harm. Simply peace. Then again, peace is never everlasting. There's always a disaster waiting to surface.

It was nightfall and each person was either setting up to (attempt to) fall asleep or just doing a quiet activity since sleep had long abandoned them.

...

Ivan sat on an arm chair downstairs, looking out the darkened window. Night had already fallen which casted solid shadows on the ground from unknown objects. The mist on the iron gates around the building glistened clearly from the soft moonlight. As usual, there was no sign of life outside. The only thing that greeted the eye was the faint sway of the nearby trees.

The Russian's focus went from the blackened world outside to his grim reflection on the window. A tired, violet eye blinked back at him as it glanced upon the bandage on top of the other. Uneasy for pondering upon the injury, he turned his attention to the other details that weren't so triggering. His longer beige hair was tangled with multiple little knots here and there curtained the front of his face ever so slightly. Nothing new here, even in the apocalypse. Even now he had a bad time taking care of himself when it came to the simplest of things.

"Sir, would you like some tea? Arthur made some for everyone before he went to his room." Toris's soft voice drifted into the room like a breeze in the wind. Ivan turned over to him, shaking his head.

"No... I am okay." Ivan responded. A little smile crept upon his lips as Toris walked over to him. The clear limp the other had made the Russian shudder a bit, causing him to focus on the Lithuanian's tired face.

Feliciano was the first to question them on their injuries. A limp and loss of an eye was impossible to go unnoticed. Someone was bound to question upon it and that's what the two dreaded. When asked 'what happened', they merely smiled weakly and gave a shake of the head. They refused in the politest way to answer. If pried on, Toris would simply state: "some history is meant to be untold." So, they left what clearly happened in the imagination of those who asked with the truth locked away in their own minds.

Toris knelt down beside Ivan's chair, grunting slightly as he shifted his weight from his bad leg to his other. Gentle hands made contact with bigger ones, causing the Russian to turn away.

"You need anything?" Toris said in a quiet tone. "I noticed you were spacing out. You do that a lot-"

"I know." Ivan interrupted, glancing briefly at the other. "I was just... thinking. Maybe thinking will be making them go away." A chuckle came from the Lithuanian at that.

Despite such drastic events and experiences, there are permanent things that remain with individuals. Even after losing a friend, losing family, having his right to see properly stripped of him, living in such a dangerous world- even after all this, Ivan's childish beliefs stayed with him. A child daydreams and escapes into there mind to go away from reality. Ivan, the child that he is, thinks if staying in his mind will mend the world around him. Truly, he believed this was all a dream.

Of course, then there's Toris who's the rude yet gentle awakening to it all.

"You can't make it go away, Ivan. This is how the world is now. I know, it's... scary. Believe me, I know. But it's okay. Ludwig is working to find a cure or solution to all of this. He is helping us- all of us. We will be alright." Toris tilted his head a bit, trying to catch Ivan into looking at him.

Ivan nodded slowly, turning his head to return the stare. His one violet eye shone with grief and despair. It was as if losing his other eye transferred all his emotions into one. You can stare at someone and see their feelings through the look in their eyes. Yet, when you only have one, it shows the story of them both, making the emotion stronger.

"You trust me, right?" The Lithuanian asked with a genuinely pure smile.

"Yes... Yes, of course I trust you." Ivan whispered, lowering his head as he scratched at his bandages. "You are only friend I trust."

Friend. Such a word to use with the two. In the past, they were the farthest from friends. In the midst of friendship was the aura of pain and hurt being brought into by one to the other. There was no love nor care between the two. It was as if everything had been flipped to opposite. However, now was not the same time as before. Now, history had no play in any matter. The history between the two was irrelevant to this world. A new history was made at the end and beginning of it all. A new history that rewrote everything. A new history causing the most broken of bonds to come together through friendship and survival.

Toris grinned at the other, reaching over and feeling the bandages himself with such delicacy. "Does it need to be changed? I can change it for you, sir. I have-"

"No." Ivan answered quite quickly, gently putting Toris's hand away from him. "I have gotten it. I can change them on my own." He cleared his throat uneasily, turning to the kneeling brunette. "You have done much for me already. Please, take my seat. It's calm night. Cherish it before it disappears."

With that, the Russian stood up and exited the room to get his bandages. Toris smiled at that and gratefully took Ivan's seat.

It was true. It was a calm night. It must be acknowledged before it is too late.

...

Arthur and Francis got a room to themselves. It was right across from Alfred and Matthew's room. They would've had a whole room for the four of them but there was not a room that had a big enough space. So, they were in two separate rooms that were fairly close to one another.

"It's been a while since we've slept in a bed together." Francis said with a small laugh. He pulled back the blankets in the dim lit room and slid into them. The only light came either from the cracks of the door or the moon outside. Arthur was already underneath the warm covers, looking up at the Frenchman's moon illuminated face.

"I can't believe I'm saying this..." The Brit murmured, returning the laugh with a small smile. "but I actually miss sleeping with you in a bed."

Francis returned the smile and moved over closer to the other. Crystal blue eyes connected with emerald ones and suddenly everything stopped. Time stopped.

It was as if the two were back in their own countries- or whoever's house they were at this night. There was soft chatter outside from the couples of the night walking down the streets. Francis would always trace his fingers across Arthur's soft skin, smiling as the shadows of owls flying past the window and the streetlights on the street corners frequently flickered by. Arthur would always be reluctant and grumpy at first with being in bed with the Frenchman but would give in with a returning smile. The two would sleep in each other's arms from night to morning. Francis would wake up first and cook breakfast for Arthur in bed. Arthur would eat and try to insult his food despite the drool dripping from the corners of his mouth. The two would spend countless hours with one another with no care in the world. Sure, they were nations, but that never mattered when they were together.

This moment now as Francis stared at Arthur lying in front of him took them back to that time. That time when everything was sublime.

Arthur let out a little sigh as he never broke the stare between him and Francis. "Just like old times..."

Francis smiled sweetly over at him, the pure look of love clouding over his eyes. Every time he looked at him, he fell in love all over again. "Just like old times."

The Frenchman snaked his arms around the other and drew him close. Arthur leaned into the embrace and rested his head against Francis's chest. The steady beat of his heart was soothing to his ears.

"Arthur, do you love me?" Francis questioned as he ran his hand through the other's hair. Arthur smiled at that feeling but scoffed at the question.

It was a question Francis already knew the answer to. However the reason for asking it is that it always opened Arthur into pouring out such loving words he only rarely gets to hear. The Brit, being reluctant and stubborn as ever, only became romantic in bed and, seeing how they were in one right now, gave Francis the desire to ask him this question.

"Even now you pry for me to splutter out my heart." Arthur mumbled, but silently pleased to answer. "Of course I love you. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. If you could take a glimpse into my heart, you will see that every beat is meant for you. On the surface of my heart, your name is forever engraved upon it. Every breath I take is to be with you and shower my love on you till my very last. Every day I wake simply to be by your side and nothing more. You are my everything. From your silky stupid locks to your bloody annoying laugh." Usually he'd stop there but what if they'd never get to experience this again? "Every time I lay my eyes on you, I fall in love all over again. Every time we touch, I'm sent into an endless bliss. Francis, I am a very rude and ridiculous man- someone I'm quite surprised you chose to fall in love with- but despite all my insults and names I throw at you, they are merely my way of saying 'I love you'. You are my world. Without you, my time would freeze and nothing else would matter. Without you, I am nothing. Without you..."

Francis sniffed, putting a halt to Arthur's loving monologue. He felt his eyes start to glisten with tears as every word was cherished. Who knew if this would be the last time.

"Oh Arthur." Francis cooed, planting a long kiss on the other's head. "Despite all my years of hearing love poems and countless hearts being poured out, I've never been moved as much as I am with you. Which I find ironic since you're also one of the most unromantic people I have ever met."

It didn't matter at the moment that the apocalypse was going on. It didn't matter now that death was right outside their door. It didn't matter now that this night could be their last. It didn't matter now that the past would never be redeemed again. What mattered now was that they were with each other. That they were in each other's arms and everything around them wasn't there.

Arthur smiled into Francis's chest. "I love-"

 _Knock Knock_

The Brit's words were suddenly cut short at rapid knocks on their door. Groaning, since he was just getting in the mood, Arthur dragged himself out of bed. "I'll get it."

He walked over to the door and opened it halfway. Matthew stood right outside, sighing with relief when he saw Arthur was the one who answered it.

"Thank God it's you." The Canadian said. "Alfred needs you."

...

It had been precisely five months since Lovino died. A group of humans had found their safe house and made an attempt to raid them. They broke through and tried killing the current nations living inside. Unfortunately, the first and only person they got to was Lovino.

It was swift. The leader of the group slashed his throat, killing him almost instantly. He had just finished eating lunch with Antonio when he decided to check on who came inside. That's when they got him. By the time the others got to him, it was too late...

Ludwig disposed of the group once he got to them. That's when he decided to raise defenses in the place.

When Lovino died, he didn't... die. Well, he did die but came back as a biter. Ludwig and Antonio knew he was a biter. It was obvious by his dead panned eyes and animal like growls. Not to mention his sudden revived corpse that attempted to take a bite out of them when they pinned him down. However, Feliciano didn't accept that fact.

The Italian had wedged into his mind that he was just sick. His brother was just sick and needed a cure. That's all that it was, right? He just has something wrong with his brain that makes him act in such a crude way. That's what Feliciano believed.

The most reasonable thing to do would be kill the biter of Lovino. However, that couldn't be done. Feliciano wouldn't allow anyone to come near him with such harsh weapons. He wouldn't allow anyone to hurt or kill him.

 _"He's sick! He's just sick! Please, don't hurt him! Please! Ludwig... Antonio... Don't hurt him. W-We can cure him! We'll find a way! Please..."_

So, they chained him up in the basement. They kept Lovino in a locked up room with chains keeping him secured in that little room. He was a danger, Ludwig knew that. But, he couldn't strip him away from Feli. So, he added on another thing to search up: a cure for those infected.

"Fratello?" Feliciano called out, unlocking the door to Lovino's room. A low grumble was the response given along with the clinking of chains.

Lovino stirred where he was from the corner of his room, his black eyes slowly turning to Feliciano coming through the door. His scarred wrists from pulling at the chains were clearly shone through the light from the hallway.

"Feli." A hand grabbed Feliciano's arm, holding him back from going into the room. The Italian turned to see Ludwig holding him back with a faintly pitiful look on his face. "Don't go near him... He's sick, remember?" Another lie the German had to hold up. "We don't want you to get sick, too. It's late... Everyone's retiring into their rooms."

Feliciano hesitated, frozen where he stood. He wanted to go to Lovino. His brother. He must be so lonely down here... Feliciano only wanted to accompany him. That's all. Alas, even he knew some things could wait.

"Okay..." The Italian compromised with the German and stepped back outside the room. Lovino growled and made a rush for them right before Ludwig closed the door on him.

It was hard working with Feliciano's fake belief. Everyone else in the place knew Lovino was long gone, but Feliciano refused to come to believe that. He held onto the idea of him being sick and only sick. He didn't believe the hard truth that he was dead and this was just his corpse being played around with with death's puppet strings. He just couldn't bring himself to believe that reality. Sure, he could believe anything else harsh about reality just not... that.

"Did you find anything yet that might cure him?" Feliciano questioned Ludwig as they walked upstairs. His hazel eyes were casted down at the steps that led them back up from the basement, following his dragging feet. Truly, he didn't want to leave Lovino. He had to sneak down here since Ludwig almost always kept him away from him. Tonight he wasn't as sneaky as he thought.

"No, not yet.." The German responded. "I haven't yet. I'll find something. I... I promise. It just takes time."

Ludwig made two promises already that he knew he wasn't keeping. One to cure Lovino and one to find a solution. He already found a solution to this whole disaster, but remained to keep that a secret out of desperation to find another answer. He already knew how to cure Lovino, it was simple. The cure was to kill him. That was the only thing that could be done.

Nonetheless, the strongest nation remained silent about it all and continued to carry the weight of everyone's fates. Soon, they'll each have to carry their own.

...

"Alfred? Matthew said you needed me?"

Arthur peeked into the room carefully, looking to see where the American was. It was odd to be called upon since usually he only wanted to be beside his brother. Matthew was the only one who could really comfort him.

Yet, here he was.

Alfred was sitting in the middle of the bed with the covers yanked up to his chin as if it were posing as a shield. His brilliant blue eyes shot over to Arthur when he came through the door. A flicker of fear crossed before it was taken over by a fake calmness.

"Yes... I did- do." Alfred stumbled across his words as he watched Arthur walk near the bed.

"What is it that you need, dear?" The Brit asked gently, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

The American looked over at him, licking his lips nervously. Why was he nervous? This was Arthur- the man who raised him and cared for him. Why was he looking at him with the slightest bit of discomfort?

"I can't sleep..." Alfred mumbled finally, finding the words he wished to say. Arthur chuckled lightly at that.

"Can't sleep? Would you like for me to stay here with you until you do?"

When Alfred was a little boy, he often awoke with nightmares. He would come fleeing into the Brit's room in hysterics. Arthur would always wipe away the sleep in his eyes to aid the frightened child. He then would make room for him on his bed and read him a bedtime story or simply spoke with him until he slept. On bad nights where those simple words didn't help, Arthur would cast a sleeping spell that would ensure Alfred nothing but peaceful and happy dreams. He supposed that's what the American wished to do now, and he was right.

Alfred nodded. "Please... I'm scared to fall asleep... I don't want to sleep and wake up because I might wake up... _there_."

He didn't need to specify where he meant because by the tone of his voice Arthur had easily established where. It was the ship, wasn't it? The small, metal room at the bottom of the ship that was his couple months of shelter. Arthur also connected that the sudden change in scenery and shelter must've made him even more nervous about it all.

"It's okay, Alfred. It's okay. You won't wake up there." Arthur soothed, brushing a few strands of the American's hair out of his face. "Lie back now, alright? I'll tell you a little story to help you fall asleep."

Alfred hesitated before complying with what was said and lying back on the bed. Arthur brought the blankets up to the other's chest and tucked him in before he started with his story.

"Now, you got to close your eyes, alright? The magic of the story can only happen if your eyes are closed." Bringing back his old ways of telling the other bedtime stories. He would always tell him the stories won't work unless his eyes were closed. Of course, no magic was used since that was impossible now, but nonetheless he said what he said.

"Okay..." Alfred closed his eyes slowly, his eyebrows furrowing in unease.

Arthur smiled down at the American before starting his tale.

How odd. The past crept upon them and, for once, mended their pain. The pain of reality that tore at their hearts was being stifled by what the past held. The reenactment of the past temporarily dragged them back to the good times. The Lithuanian acting as a servant for the Russian again, addressing him as 'sir'. Loving words lacing the Brit and Frenchman together in a comfortable bed during the night. The Italian relying on the German to make all the choices for the good. And now the frightened American who called upon his father to tell him a bedtime story to help him fall asleep. In times like this when the past would never return, they still grasp onto it as if it's still the same.

What they do not see is that their attempts are useless and it's merely an illusion of the past. It was not 'just like old times'. It was simply an illusion. Toris was not bound to Ivan and his attempts were nothing but friendly gestures of care. Arthur and Francis lied together in a bed while deadly beings roamed about outside. Feliciano depended on Ludwig to make an impossible action to save his already dead brother. Alfred did not need a bedtime story because of a nightmare but because of the unease of sleeping in such a fine home and fear of waking up in his torture chamber. Yet, they still choose to think of it as exactly the same.

When Arthur finished with his story, Alfred kept his eyes closed. The other didn't stir at the ending, which gave Arthur the satisfaction that it quite possibly helped him sleep. So, he leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on Alfred's forehead before standing up to return back to his and Francis's room.

"Wait..." Alfred's soft voice stopped Arthur from walking out.

"Yes, Alfred? Do you need another story?" Arthur replied with the same softness. There was a moment silence before another request was made.

"Sleep with me. Please. I don't want to sleep alone... or with Matthew. Not tonight. I can't..."

Now that was something he did not expect. A small part of him desired to refuse and go back and sleep with Francis, but he simply could not do that. Alfred needed him and he needed to be there for him. He wasn't there for him when it was dire so the least he could do is do this for him now.

Arthur slowly walked back over to the bed, nodding. Sapphire eyes pleaded up at his deep emerald ones, making Arthur smile reassuringly. "Of course, Alfred. I'll sleep with you tonight."

The Brit pulled back the covers and slid under them. Alfred quickly yet hesitantly inched over to him, letting his head rest against his shoulder. He curled up beside the older one, his body still tense as he did so.

 _That place really did break him, huh_ , Arthur thought. _Look at him. He never requested for me to sleep with him- not since he was a child. Even then he'd be reluctant on admitting it when he needed me. 'I'm the hero I can sleep by myself! But... tonight, Iggy, you're my sidekick his usual answers and ways of asking. Yet, here he is with his pleading eyes begging me to spend this night with me._

Alfred closed his eyes after a minute or so, slowly relaxing. Arthur carefully put an arm around him, brushing his fingers through his hair soothingly. Before he knew it, Alfred's breathing slowed and his tenseness softened. He was asleep. The damaged hero retired into a peaceful state he so deserved and needed.

Arthur looked down at him, not stopping from stroking his hair. His face was calm and, only briefly, the look of how he was normally returned. No stressed creases in his face. No fearful stares that held unbearable pain. No fragile stances that causes him to flinch at every little thing. None of that. Only pure peace and youth that never left him.

"Sleep, my dear." Arthur whispered softly as he, too, closed his eyes. "You're safe. No one and nothing will hurt you... Keeping the promise I made years back, I will be beside you and keeping you safe no matter what. Sleep now... You need it. I'll protect you while you do, I promise. You're okay."

And just like that, Arthur fell asleep too. He kept his arm around the other as if keeping him under his defensive wing. The two slept in peace at that as the rest of the house fell silent for the night.

All was quiet, all was well. For that one night, everyone had a break. It was the perfect night.

...

The next morning, Ludwig awoke before anyone else. That wasn't really a new thing since that's how it usually was even in the past. He would awake before anyone else and get the day started. And, that's what he did this morning.

Usually he would go directly into his study and start his daily research, but this morning was different however. It appeared that he did not wake up alone for the world outside seemed to rumble with life as the sun rose in the air.

Ludwig peered outside, scanning the area for any reason why the soft rumbling sounds were made. That's when he saw it. Two trees somewhat nearby falling the floor as if a lumberjack had just chopped it own. Blue eyes trailing to the roots, he saw a sight that sent him at a loss for breath.

Dozens, maybe even a hundred or so, of biters marched in a massive herd straight towards the building. Straight towards where they were.

The end of the world was arriving at their doorstep.

 **A/N:**  
 **I just wanted to say thank you guys so much for reading and commenting on my story/stories. It honestly means the whole entire world when I see every view and favorite and comment. You, my readers, make me so incredibly happy I can't even put it into words. I'm so grateful and thankful for each and every one of you. Thank you for reading my stories and thank you for just making me the happiest person in the world :)**

 **To clear some things up within this chapter:**  
 **I know some of you wanted to know what happened to Toris and Ivan but I chose to leave it up to whatever you guys want to believe when it comes to their injuries. So, I'll leave the story behind their injuries up to you and however you wish to perceive it.**

 **The next chapter will be kinda hectic and chaotic so that's a little hint on what'll happen next.**

 **Anyways, please leave your feedback in the reviews/comments! I love reading them and they inspire me to continue writing!**


	25. I'm Sorry, Dearly Beloved

Do you realize how much the world could change in just the blink of an eye? Think about it. One moment, everything is fine. A second passes and all is lost. So many things could happen in an instant. A gun shot could take a life. A miscalculation could cause two planes to collide. One wrong step and someone could trip into the street. A hasty decision could be made and start a nasty addiction. An answer could be made that changes everything. So many things could happen.

Cherish the present. Don't wish to be in the past and don't focus solely on the future. Focus on what's happening now because soon you'll find yourself regretting ever letting it slip through your fingers.

Now, our remaining survivors have their own experience with their life changing in a second. They experienced it all already, every passing minute becoming another personal record on how things change.

I know, I know. You wish to continue on the story; see the chaos that's about to take place with the approaching herd. However, the wait must lengthen for there are things I must address.

Stories of those who have taken the shadow amongst the main ones. Stick with me, please, and listen to their pleas before we continue on. I'm sure you can wait for a just a little longer.

You'll be at a loss if you don't hear their cries.

...

Let's embark on the story of the Prussian and Austrian.

At the start of it all, the two were in Rodriech's house along with Elizaveta. It was a normal day for them which didn't give off any alarm. The outbreak outside wasn't even known to them at the time.

"Will you be quiet? I am trying to appreciate the art of Mozart." Rodriech whined as his slender fingers danced along the piano keys before him. Gilbert, who was in the middle of a long and pointless story, gave a short, obnoxious laugh.

"Quiet? You can't quiet awesomeness like me!" He shouted with another booming laugh. "Why listen to that old coot when you can listen to me! I'm far cooler than a boring piano guy. At least I can-" Gilbert's words were cut short when a conductor stick smacked him on the forehead.

"You are nothing compared to Mozart. He was a genius and you are pathetic. The mere sentence is highly disrespectful and offensive. You wouldn't be able to match his exquisite intellect in music knowledge. I bet you can't even tell the difference between a sixteenth note and an eighth note."

The two got into one of their long arguments as they usually did with Gilbert being so egotistical and loud and Rodriech being snobbish about it all. These fights happened often but never thought about once they were over. It happened and then it's done. That's it. It wasn't pondered upon again nor brought up.

"You two... Why do I always walk into this room to find you both arguing? I don't think I've ever come in here to where you two weren't arguing." Their words faltered as they turned to the doorway. Long brown hair draped down over broad shoulders. Gentle green eyes complimented pink lips that curved into a smile. Gilbert turned all his focus from Rodriech to the one who, he believed, deserved his attention most. Elizaveta leaned against the doorway with crossed arms as she stared at the two bickering men.

Rodriech scoffed, turning sharply away from the two to face his piano again. "That is impossible since this buffoon always visits." Even though he turned away, out of the corner of his eye he observed Gilbert.

Gilbert blinked before laughing once more, walking towards Elizaveta. "Well, since you've stayed with him, I haven't been able to argue with you anymore. So, I've moved onto this stuck up noble!" When he spoke with her, his tone was much different from the one with Rodriech. Playfulness and the faintest hint of friendliness layered his words. Only Rodriech seemed to catch this for Elizaveta furrowed her brows as a smirk played across her lips.

"Ha, seems so. I pity Rodriech for having to endure your lame arguments. I always found them to be a waste of time." She, too, had the littlest touch of playfulness as well but did so unintentionally. "Unlike you two, I have important things to do."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Gilbert smirked back.

"Like picking up some flowers in town." Elizaveta replied. "The ones in the dining room are wilting and I thought getting some fresh ones would be better." She gave them both a fake scolding stare before continuing. "Well, I'll leave you two to your fighting. I'll be back after I get the flowers, okay?" And with that, she left the room once more.

Gilbert stared after her, the smile on his face still hanging there. He always was fond of Elizaveta... Even when they were little. Of course, he couldn't really show that back then since he thought she was a guy. A guy liking another guy back then was frowned upon greatly, if you wish to sugarcoat it, so he just shoved his feelings down and denied them. However, she wasn't a guy so where's the hurt in showing his feelings now?

"When are you going to tell her?" Rodriech's teasing voice broke the Prussian's thoughts. Gilbert chuckled lightly, turning to him.

"What do you mean?"

"You like her. It doesn't take a genius like me to figure that out. I'm surprised how little you seem to hide it."

It was amusing how obvious he made it yet the only person who didn't seem to catch on was Elizaveta. Gilbert looked over at Rodriech, shaking his head.

"I'll tell her... when she gets back." He responded sincerely. "I had to prepare what to say, you know?"

Rodriech couldn't help but laugh at the words coming out of the other's mouth. "You? Preparing? I never thought someone with your confidence and ego would need to prepare a confrontation of any sort."

Gilbert shrugged and scratched the back of his head. Yeah, even he couldn't really believe that he needed to prepare for this. He didn't give a shit about what anyone said with anything he did cause, well, he didn't care. But when it came to confessing to Elizaveta, it was something he just had to think over.

"I'm just full of surprises, aren't I?"

 _Fast forward_

Two days after that day, Elizaveta didn't come back. She left to gather flowers but never returned. Usually, that wouldn't be pondered on that much since there were tons of harmless possibilities for that. She could've forgotten and went back home. She saw another nation and hung out with them. She remembered things to do and went to do that. She was pulled aside by her boss and had to tend to things in her own country. There were tons of things that could've happen, but that wasn't what changed Gilbert's life.

A blink of an eye was all it took before he lost his chance to confess. A blink of an eye was all it took before Elizaveta left the room to get flowers. A blink of an eye.

About an hour after Elizaveta left, a bomb exploded two miles away. That bomb was followed by four more that shook the entire place. It hit the town with the second bomb and the others scattered about in various areas around. Half of Rodriech's house collapsed due to this but, fortunately, him and Gilbert were not heavily injured. Only minor scrapes and bruises.

The reason for bombings concerned Rodriech greatly. Turned out that because of the apocalypse, government officials in many nations decided to bomb their own countries in an attempt to get rid of the infected. A dumb decision but who knows what people would do in this situation. Since Rodriech's house was always secluded from citizens (it gave him a noble, expensive feel to it- and that's how a majority of all nation houses were), they weren't aware of the start of the apocalypse. Life was still as perfect as ever there. They were oblivious to the start of the end of the world... until now.

Unlike Rodriech, the bombs were not Gilbert's main worries. He was worried about Elizaveta.

"Where is she? Is she okay? Rodriech, tell me, is she okay?" Gilbert asked hurriedly as he paced one of the debris infested rooms.

"Gilbert..." Rodriech said slowly and calmly. He just got back from asking around whoever was still alive if they saw a woman fitting Elizaveta's description. He even went to the flower shop she said she was going to. No one knew anything about her whereabouts or her living status. The only thing that gave any hint on what happened was...

"She said she'd be back with flowers. Why hasn't she come back?!" The man was in utter distraught. Rodriech knew he was trying not to accept the only logical explanation for why she didn't return. "Flowers don't take long to gather, right?! You just pick a pretty batch and buy them!"

The Austrian sighed, walking over to him. "Gilbert... Please, calm down." He put a hand on the male's shoulder, trying not to get him even more worked up. "Look.. No one knew what happened to her. No one saw her. I went to the flower shop and found-"

"Found? Found what? What did you find?"

"I... I found this." Rodriech took out a scrap of Elizaveta's dress. It was a light green, the color that always complimented her eyes, but appeared like it was dipped in a dark red on one end. Gilbert stared at it and felt his face lose all color.

Shakily, he took the scrap of fabric and simply held it like it was a crystal about to break. No, no. This couldn't be hers. This couldn't be her clothing. This couldn't be her blood- no. Not that. It can't be that. Oh, but even with his thoughts of denial he couldn't ignore that fact. Did this mean she was...

"I'm sorry... Gilbert. Truly, I am. I'm sorry." Rodriech apologized, his face etched in pity and sadness. Gilbert didn't say anything back. His attention was all on the fabric and only the fabric. This couldn't be true, it could not be true.

"No. No. Don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for." The Prussian exclaimed, shaking his head. "Why are you sorry? Nothing happened. We'll wait here. She'll come back with the flowers she went to buy. Yes, that's what's going to happen. We just have to wait." He nodded, convincing himself that's all. "We will wait."

They waited for a week which then turned to two. On the third week, Rodriech decided it was time to go along. Ludwig did tell them if anything happened they were to report to Berlin.

After some manipulation, Rodriech managed to get Gilbert to go to Berlin. He told him they'd leave a note at the house telling Elizaveta that they went to Berlin and were following Ludwig's orders. If she were to get it, then she would arrive at Berlin.

"We'll wait there for her, okay?" Rodriech informed. "Your brother told us to go there so we should head here. When Elizaveta comes back... she'll read the note and come with us. Okay?"

Gilbert agreed to that and the two started their journey to Berlin.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as smooth as they were hoping for. Another bomb was dropped that erupted chaos with everyone still living which resulted in more destroyed buildings and damage. In the midst of that, Gilbert and Rodriech were split up in the midst of the chaos.

Gilbert made it to Berlin first, half expecting to see Elizaveta there. Rodriech joined him a month later.

Ever since the Prussian arrived, he waited anxiously by the door for the Hungarian to walk through. It was like he was a dog waiting desperately for its owner to come back. But its owner had long gone. We all know dogs though. They don't understand and wait hopeful for the impossible.

She was dead. Elizaveta was dead and the main reason why Gilbert was so in denial for her death was that he waited too long to tell her how he felt. And now... his confession was too late. He would never get to confess. Never.

...

The next story that desires to be told is the first Berlin inhabitants.

Ludwig, Feliciano, and Lovino were there at the start. Feliciano and Lovino were talking over with Ludwig about the whole disturbances in the world and how they felt something was wrong. That's when the breakout first happened. They had it easy on getting to Berlin since... well... they were already there. However, that didn't take away all their problems. There were still dangers to deal with there.

Gilbert arrived at the doorstep silent and reserved a month after the start. Rodriech arrived a month later, his whole demeanor at a loss with its usual pretentious and high class manner. Then a couple weeks after that Antonio came staggering up.

"Feliciano, there's someone at the door." Lovino mumbled absentmindedly as he took a glimpse at the approaching figure. The breakout didn't really effect him and his attitude. Maybe the slightest bit of change was that he wasn't that rude to anyone anymore. Sure, he still had that hard, "I don't care" exterior but it wasn't as obnoxious as it was before.

His brother nodded at that and quickly went down to greet the new comer.

Antonio didn't even have the time to knock before the door swung open before him. He blinked in surprise and looked up to see Feliciano standing with his eyes wide and mouth open.

"Antonio! It's you! You're here!" Feliciano exclaimed happily. He ran over to the Spaniard and immediately pulled him into a big hug. Antonio flinched a bit at that but, him being him, put up his fake cheerful facade and hugged back hesitantly.

"Si, mi amigo. I'm here..." He responded quietly, his tone not matching his fake smile. Feliciano didn't take notice of that and quickly pulled him inside.

Ludwig had taken notice of the Italian's excitement, which was something that never happened anymore on such a high degree, and came downstairs to see what was going on. When Antonio came to view, he cracked a small smile.

"Hello, Antonio. I see you've made it. Welcome." Ludwig greeted, making a motion for Feliciano to give the man some space. He did so and Antonio nodded and went up to Ludwig.

"It was a long journey but... I'm here." He spoke in such an odd tone for himself. Despite his forced smile, his eyes told a different story. It's usual vibrant and lively green was now shattered and darkened with events from the past. It was as if a once strong lion that had such a lively aura about him was now shot down by a hunter and left cowering in the shadows in its own misery.

Antonio was an empty shell. His appearance was one thing but inside he was nothing. That was before he saw him again.

"What are you guys being so excited about, huh? Did my stupid brother find another bag of pasta? Fratello, I told you we can't make pasta because we don't have any fucking tomatoes." The irritated voice of Lovino came bouncing off the walls as he came trotting down the stairs. Once he turned the corner, he saw Antonio standing at the door way.

Both men froze where they were. Antonio's empty complexion suddenly revived with life as his dull eyes shined once more. His whole demeanor changed when he saw Lovino come into view. Lovino felt his mouth open slightly in surprise, just like how Feliciano did. His body relaxed a bit from his tense posture as he slowly took steps towards Antonio. Was this really him? Antonio? That annoying Spaniard?

"Lovi..." Antonio choked out quietly as he felt a genuine smile break across his face. When he spoke, Lovino suddenly broke down in tears and ran over to him.

"Fuck you!" Lovino sobbed, burying his face into Antonio's shoulder. The Spaniard chuckled and pulled the Italian into a tight yet warm hug as if afraid to let go. "Fuck you! You fucking jerk! I thought you were dead! Why didn't you come here earlier?! Dammit, I wasted about three days crying over your pathetic ass!"

Everyone there knew Lovino was just being emotional and showing his care. He always did in the most colorful of ways. Antonio laughed at his words, running his fingers through his hair as the hug continued. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I had to travel by foot most of the time, you know. Spain isn't that close to Germany when you don't have an airplane. Plus, you wouldn't believe the things I witnessed on my journey over here. There was this girl who tried to tou-"

"Shut up. Shut up." Lovino silenced him through his racking sobs. "I don't want to hear about it. You talk too much. Dammit. Just... Just stay here. Don't leave. Stay here, don't go away. I waited for nearly three fucking months for you to come by. Don't go leaving me again." Of course, he thought that since this wonderful thing happened something bad would follow. In a world like this, its only logical to get suspicious when something very good happens in your life. You expect something even worse to trail behind to even out the events.

That did happen... But not in the way Lovino had thought. It wasn't him losing Antonio again. It was Antonio losing him.

 _Thud Thud_

"Coming, I'm coming." Lovino called out in annoyance.

It was three weeks after Antonio's arrival. He had gotten settled and everything and became a part of the Berlin pack. Everything seemed well since everything was going well. It was only time before danger crept up on them.

"Cut it off, will you? I said I'm coming!" Lovino spat out irritably as the knocking at the door grew louder. Even though it was the apocalypse, urgent knocks still annoyed him. Besides he was closest to the door and everyone was either in the living room or in their own rooms. Rodriech and Gilbert were in their own rooms at the time since that's where they usually were nowadays.

Sighing, Lovino reached door and unlocked it. Suddenly, the door was slammed open as a group of four men piled inside. They weren't nations, that was obvious from the start. They were regular humans who decided to raid this place and even take it over.

One of the men, the leader to be exact, shoved Lovino up against the wall as he held a knife to his neck.

"Are there others here?" The man snapped at the Italian, the knife pressing even more to Lovino's neck.

"Why would I tell you?! Get the fuck off me." He hissed, trying to push the male away from him. This wasn't a good thing. What if they took over this building? All the nations who survived would come here. It would be terrible if they came but came to nothing, or worse...

The man glared at him as he started to see Lovino as a nuisance. He looked over at the other three men beside him and motioned for them to split up to check the place. "Look around. If you see anyone, kill them. They'll only slow us down."

At that, Lovino felt his face pale slightly. Squirming, he tried to get out of the man's hold. "Feliciano! Ludwig! Antonio! Gilbert! Rodriech! Help! There's people here trying to take over this place! Feliciano! Anto-"

 _Slice_

In a second, Lovino felt his words cut short as something cut deep into his neck. He gasped as the arm holding him to the wall released him.

Lovino collapsed to the ground, holding a shaking hand to his neck. Blood flowed in drastic amounts from the deep incision the knife made. It seeped through his fingers as he tried to cover it up. But it was no use. Nothing could save him now. It was only a matter of precious time before-

"Lovi? Lovi! Oh no, oh no, oh no." Antonio's worried voice echoed around the dying Italian. Lovino felt a pair of hands quickly slip underneath him and hold him up. Before he knew it, he was staring up at a pair of tear filled forest green eyes from his beloved Spaniard.

"A-Antonio.." He gasped, feeling his words send more daggers into his neck. Talking hurt like hell and breathing was becoming harder to do by the second. Antonio shook his head desperately as he put his own hand to Lovino's wound, trying to stop it from bleeding and save him.

"Don't speak. Y-You're going to be all right. Y-You will!" He sobbed, staring down at the dying man in his arms. Lovino shook his head in disagreement, knowing for a fact he was dying. Tears began to stream down his cheeks as well as he stared up at Antonio.

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. All was well before. This couldn't be it. But, the hard truth for both of them was that it was happening. It took him a second to open the door. A second to realize his mistake. A second to for the man to trap him. A second for his life to be taken away.

Lovino gasped for air as he cried in Antonio's arms. Unable to form a sentence, he merely desperately held on to the life that was pooling in large amounts beneath his body. Antonio was in hysterics as he kept telling Lovino the same thing over and over: "stay alive" "you're going to be okay"

"T-Toni..." Lovino choked out, his eyes faltering. He raised his hand in an attempt to touch the Spaniard's face as he mouthed words he desperately tried to get out. "I-... sorry... ti-.. am-.." He gasped once more as his brows furrowed in defeat. With that, the hazel eyes dulled and the hand barely touching Antonio's cheek fell to its owner's side. Lovino's mouth relaxed as words failed to come out anymore. His body suddenly became heavier in Antonio's arms, causing the other's breathing to hitch.

"Lovi?" Antonio breathed, terrified at the sudden calmness. He shook the Italian in his arms for a response. Nothing. "Lovi?" Nothing. "Lovino?" Nothing. "Romano?" Nothing.

Feliciano, Ludwig, Gilbert, and Rodriech came running down the hall to where Antonio was. They'd just taken care of the four men that entered. They all halted when they saw the pool of blood and body of Lovino. Antonio didn't even acknowledged them for all his focus and attention was on his beloved in his arms.

"Fratello?" Feliciano quickly came down beside Antonio as he saw his brother. "Fratello? Wake up, big brother. Why are you taking a siesta now? Wh-What's the matter? Antonio, why isn't he w-waking up?" Antonio didn't even look at Feliciano. He couldn't. That was an action he simply could not do.

At the silence he received, Feliciano started to feel tears race down his cheeks. At the sound of his whimpers, Antonio lost it. He broke.

Screams pierced through the air as Antonio bowed his head over Lovino. He screamed in pain despite never being wounded. He cried till no tears were left to cry. He felt the world around him collapse to the ground as he held the dead body of the one he loved most in the world. Through his tears, Antonio saw the still face of the Italian who always caused him trouble. The one who always called him names and criticized every little thing he did. The one who was a pain in the ass yet the best thing to ever happen to him. He cried and cried till his tears mixed in with the blood beneath him. Trembling, Antonio lowered his forehead to touch Lovino's pale one.

"D-Don't be dead... Please don't b-be dead..." He begged, his words layered in grief. This couldn't be true. It couldn't be true...

But it was. Lovino, the first to fall in the house, lied dead in Antonio's arms. That was reality. It was no dream, no imaginative thought that didn't exist. It was real. He was dead.

About an hour after his death, he came back as a biter. Antonio cried even more at that since seeing his corpse become such a monstrous creature only made it worse. Ludwig deduced that the knife he was killed with was infected with whatever was in the biters and passed it to him. Henceforth, causing him to turn into one. Everyone knew he was gone and this was just his corpse being a puppet in death's little game. However, Feliciano chose to use this as a way to convince him he still was alive.

"He's sick! He's sick! Why are you going to kill him?" He exclaimed to Ludwig when he tried to tell him Lovino was a biter. "We just need to find a cure to heal him! Ludwig... Please don't kill my brother. We can help him! Just don't kill him..."

That's when Ludwig made the decision to chain him up in the basement. He couldn't just let Lovino's biter roam free. It would kill them all. So, since Feliciano begged him not to kill the biter, he had to comply and lock it up downstairs where it wouldn't hurt anyone. That's where he was put and that's where he's been all this time.

After his death, Antonio retired back to his blank, broken state. His revived happiness drained away like before and there was no way of gaining it back. It was gone forever.

...

Stories like this couldn't be mentioned or implied without going in depth. No stories should be silenced. Every person's stories is as important as the next. Doesn't matter what you've done in life or what your background is. Every person's story is important. You can't have a story that doesn't matter. Every story connects to each other somehow. It might not be noticeable at first but as time goes on, the connection is shown.

These stories were important to share. Why? It gives you, dear readers, the feel of those who tended to stay silent behind the shadows of other characters. So you connect more with their story and feelings. This could be good and bad- however you choose to perceive it. Come back and let me know whether it was good or bad once you finished this story. You'll find out for yourself if this added information was helpful or not when it comes to the upcoming chapters.

Trust me. These next chapters will be a wonder. I pray you won't hate me too much for what is to come. The end is drawing near; that is inevitable. Chaos is erupting. Lives are at stake. Secrets will soon be revealed.

Bundle up. There's an east wind coming.


	26. This is Where We Fall -part 1-

_Over a hundred. Just a little bit over a hundred. They're all coming from a variety of different directions- mainly in the West. They aren't far away and can arrive at our doorstep in less than ten minutes. We have ten minutes to make it up to the meeting room. Ten minutes._

10:00

Ludwig raced down the corridors, knocking feverishly on each door.

"Everyone get out! Get up to the meeting room upstairs! Right now!" His voice was ordering yet desperate at the same time- two things that never crossed paths until now.

He couldn't remember who stayed in which room so he merely pounded on every door closed.

Ten minutes. Would that be enough time? Would that get everyone to safety? Whatever the answer may be it would have to work. That was the time that was given to them so that was the time they had.

The thundering footsteps of the dead gradually grew louder and louder as they came closer to the house.

 _How am I going to warn everyone? Running around and screaming isn't going to help at all. It'll only make it worse._

"Ludwig? What's going on?" As a miracle was sent down to him, Gilbert and Rodriech came sprinting up to him from down the hall. The blonde ran over to meet them, a plan coming to mind.

"Gilbert, Rodriech- I need you guys to wake everyone up. Don't interrupt me and don't ask any questions after this. Go wake everyone up and tell them to get up into the large meeting room upstairs. We have ten minutes. Now go! Hurry!"

Obeying to what was said, the albino and brunet nodded and dashed away to warn everyone.

 _That was good. They'll tell everyone faster than me. Three men are better than one. The meeting room is the safest place to go. Windows only on the top floor, one entrance to the hallways that can be barricaded, and one office only accessible in the meeting room. Everyone has to get there before the biters come barging in... Everyone-_

Ludwig's thoughts ceased as a sudden alert went off in his mind.

 _I need to get Feliciano._

8:59

Mathias awoke with a start, looking around quickly to see what was going on. The faintest sound of a Prussian yelling 'Get to the meeting room! Now!' was what jolted him back to consciousness. Berwald was already up and ready, getting a pistol and knife in his hand.

"We have to go. Can you walk?" Berwald questioned bluntly, walking over to Mathias. The Dane swung his legs over the bedside and gingerly stood up. A small grunt escaped him as he swayed where he stood. After a moment of barely gaining balance, Mathias shook his head.

Quickly, the Swedish male went over to him and scooped Mathias off his feet. He cleared his throat awkwardly as Berwald carried him bridal style in his arms.

"Let's not speak of this once we get to the meeting room, yes?" Mathias said, looking up at the other. Berwald nodded.

"Let's go." With that, Berwald exited to room and walked briskly upstairs to the meeting room.

As they walked, Mathias glanced outside the windows that aligned the hallways. A mass of biters crept their way towards the building, just barely making it to the metal gate. There were tons of them- more than they had ever encountered before. It was bigger than the herd that stampeded Mathias when he was with Lukas...

"Hey! What's going on? Why's everyone going to the meeting room?" Antonio came trotting up to them, obviously just awoken from his sleep.

Berwald gave a short nod to the biters outside, causing a tiny gasp to come from the Spaniard.

 _Oh dear..._ Antonio thought, _this wasn't good. There's so many. This building can't hold up for long with this number._

"There's no time to stare. Come on, we have to go." Mathias informed the Spanish man. It was true. They couldn't stop to talk, they had to go. Antonio nodded and briskly walked beside them as they made their way to the meeting room.

Mathias looked back up to where Berwald was taking them. The bullet wound in his side ached as he was held. Oh... He hoped this mass of biters won't be a danger to anyone.

7:30

Ludwig ran down every hall to the point where it seemed like he was running in circles. Every passing second was a second lost to getting up to the meeting hall. Where was Feliciano? Where was he? That was his main concern. He couldn't get to the meeting room with the others until he got Feliciano.

"Feliciano! Feliciano!" Ludwig shouted down the halls. The only response he received was his thundering footsteps beneath him. This wasn't good. The biters got closer by the second. It was only a matter of time before they broke in.

Right before he started to lose hope, a sudden idea came to mind. Oh no...

 _The basement_

As the thought came clear to his mind, the German ran down the steps and towards where Feliciano may be. He was correct. The door was ajar and the faint talk of a person in there confirmed the fact that that was where he was. Ludwig quickly came into the room, nearly paling at the sight.

Feliciano was kneeling next to Lovino's biter, unlocking one of the chains binding its wrists. The biter growled and snapped viciously at the Italian, squirming as he was slowly being set free.

"No! Feliciano stop!" The German shouted, rushing over to the other. Feliciano turned to him, smiling wide.

"Ludwig! You're here! Please help me get these chains off fratello." He said, unsnapping one of the chains on Lovino's left wrist. "We need to get him to the meeting room with everyone else! Rodriech said there's biters coming in so we have to-"

"No. We can't bring him." Ludwig interjected, eyes hard yet worried. Feliciano walked up to him, confused at what was said.

"No? But why? He's family! He's sick! We can't leave him to die!"

"Feli... He's already dead."

"No, he's sick. That's what you said! You're finding a cure for him! You-"

"We have to leave him! He's... He's not safe!"

Feliciano shook his head in disbelief. What was this? Leave his brother for the biters? Wasn't Ludwig supposed to protect them and keep them safe? Why was he just abandoning Lovino? He couldn't wrap that around his mind. His brother was obviously sick so why couldn't they bring him to safety?!

Of course, the thought of him still being alive was still in his mind. It continued to refuse the fact that his brother was long gone and this was a mere monster that looked like his family.

Ludwig knew arguing wouldn't do anything to help. Then again, it would only make things worse. The longer they stand here and talk, the faster they were put in danger with the biters. Desperate, Ludwig knew he had to get Feliciano out of this room alone no matter what.

"Feliciano... Let's go." Ludwig took a step forward to take Feliciano's arm. If he wasn't going voluntarily, he would have to use force. He was not about to leave his loved Italian down here, even if it meant the other hating him once they got upstairs.

The Italian quickly stepped back, slowly getting closer to Lovino's biter.

"I'm not going!" He exclaimed, eyes starting to water. "I'm not leaving my brother!"

Feliciano shook his head, holding out an arm between Ludwig and Lovino. Ludwig stared in horror as he watched the Italian slowly walk backwards towards the biter of Lovino. Lovino snarled and bit through the air to reach the flesh before it. It had no consciousness to distinguish this as its brother- it was only fresh meat in its eyes.

"Feliciano, please... Please get away from him. Please!" Ludwig was begging now, reaching over to the other. He stopped when this gesture only made the Italian walk farther away from him.

"No..." Feliciano shook his head, tears racing down his cheeks. "I-I'm not leaving him... Not now..."

One step. Lovino lunged forward as far as it could.

"I can't leave him..."

Another step. Lovino was now just an inch away from reaching the food it so desired.

"He's my brother... Why don't you understand?!"

One last step.

There was nothing he could do once that step was made. That simple step changed everything in the room. It destroyed a life. It broke a heart. It was lustful for the monster who commenced it. Who knew just taking a step could change a life? Not even one, but two.

At that step, Lovino's biter reached over with its free hand and grabbed Feliciano. Feliciano fell backwards onto his brother's living corpse, fully throwing himself into its take. Teeth sunk into his shoulder as it began to feast off of the male in its hold.

A scream pierced through the air, impaling Ludwig's heart as he stared at the horror before him. Feliciano shut his eyes tightly as his face twisted in pure pain. Blood gushed from shoulder and neck as Lovino's biter tore into his body. His hazel eyes snapped open and were wide with terror and shock as they locked onto the German frozen before him.

Was this how he was going to die? By the hands of his own brother while his lover stood feet away helplessly from him? Feliciano gasped, his legs giving was as he collapsed to the floor. Lovino's biter now hunched over him, using its free hand to claw into his body. A gash on his chest. An incision across the face. More along his already eaten shoulder and soon to match the other one. The only sounds that came out from him were cracking screams and gasps of air that mixed in with the horrendous growls and hisses that rumbled from the biter.

Ludwig stood frozen at the door, eyes wide as ever. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks as he stared at the suffering Italian before him.

There were only three times the German cried in his entire life. The first time was when he was a young nation- a mere empire at the time. He was dying on the battlefield with a French soldier standing above him. The memory of a little girl awaiting him brought tears to his eyes as he was defeated. The second time was when he was reborn as the nation he was (Germany), but knew he had no recollection of any memory of the past as the feeling of loss and loneliness weighted on his heart. The third was right now... as he watched his beloved being eaten and killed right before his eyes.

Ludwig blinked, suddenly coming back to his senses. He started going over to the Italian to stop the biter but stopped mid step.

"D-Don't!" Feliciano choked as crimson liquid began to flow from his mouth. Despair and pain reflected from his eyes as he stared at Ludwig. "G-.. Go! Saf-.. Leav-.. Me! Go-.. Plea-.." He screamed once again, now looking at Ludwig desperately for him to listen to him. For once, at least this once, he wanted the other to follow his orders.

For a large part of his life with Ludwig, Feliciano always followed the other's orders. He always did as he did and depended on him to make the choices. Now, just for this one time, he wanted to be the one to make the move. It was for Ludwig's own good.

Ludwig opened his mouth but nothing came out. However, his legs managed to work and he found his feet slowly retreating from the room. No. Wait. Why was he doing this? Why was he leaving? Get back to Feliciano! What are you doing, you imbecile?!

"I-..." Ludwig mumbled, his voice fragile through tears. Feliciano slowly grew weaker where he lied, yet his eyes never left the German. The faintest smile upturned the corners of his lips as a trembling intake of breath was made.

"G-Go..."

Ludwig gulped, understanding that Feliciano was right. He needed to go. Even if he managed to take him from Lovino's grasp, what next? He'd just turn and die another way. It was best that he left. But then again... It was hard to bring himself to do such a thing.

He gave the other a nod, blinking away his tears. "I-I'm sorry..."

With that, the German parted ways with the Italian and the other was left lying on the cold floor, staring at the empty doorway. Feliciano broke down in tears once more as unimaginable pain coursed through his body. The biter beside him never hesitated on each bite and tear it made next. He squirmed and silently begged for mercy for everything to stop. His own screams echoed around his ears as he stared up at the ceiling above him for this to end.

 _Make this stop. Make this stop. I can't bear this anymore. The pain... It's too strong. End me. Kill me faster. Please. I beg of you._

Feliciano gave a short gasp as his body became limp. His eyes closed halfway, still staring at the ceiling above him. Very faintly, a hand reached out before him. It wasn't the biters nor anyone in the room's for no one was there anymore. It was a bright hand that was uninjured and gentle.

 _"You're okay, little brother. It's all over now."_

3:05

Ivan and Toris ran down the hallways and towards the staircase to get to the meeting room. The biters reached the metal gates and were gradually pushing their weight to get to the building itself. There were so many...

"The ground is vibrating." The Russian exclaimed worriedly as his violet orb looked towards the windows.

The Lithuanian panted as he ran, grunting as he put weight on his bad leg. Nonetheless, he kept running. There was no time to stop and take a breather. They had to get up the meeting room as fast as they could.

As they ran, Toris stared out at the world beyond the window. Biters piled against the metal gate as they tried to shake it down. He gave a small gasp as he noticed the gate wobbling. At this rate, the fence will fall and there'll be nothing keeping them from the building. They'll eventually get in. And then when that happens... What happens then?

"Ivan, we have to run faster!" Toris exclaimed despite him being the slowest one of the two. "Th-They're going to break the fence!"

"Look! It's just up these steps!"

"Ack!"

Ivan suddenly stopped running when he heard someone drop to the floor. Turning, he saw Toris holding his leg with shut eyes as he desperately tried to push himself up.

"T-Toris! We have to go!" Ivan beckoned with a pleading tone.

The brunette shook his head, making an attempt to stand. When he stood, he cried out once more and fell back to the floor. His leg throbbed and ached as much as ever. It was obvious he couldn't get up the meeting room by himself.

"Ivan.. I-I can't.. my leg hurts too much.." Toris whimpered, staring up at the Russian. Ivan stared down at him before he quickly knelt down. Swiftly, he took Toris' arm and swung it over his neck. Gently, he hauled him back on his feet and gradually walked up the steps to the meeting room.

It was a little surprise, Toris had to admit. Ivan would never go out of his way to help someone like this when it was a live or die situation. He would always move on his own and silently wish the other would follow. However, this was a change. A change caused by the current circumstances and events. Sometimes change could be good.

Right when they reached the top of steps, a loud crash made them both flinch. Looking over out the window, Toris stared in horror as the metal fence laid on the damp dirty grounds outside. Biters began to drag their feet over the fence as they walked towards the building.

 _Oh no... They're in._

Toris felt his breathing pick up as he and Ivan reached the meeting room. Opening the door, they rushed in and slammed it shut behind them.

Taking a shaky breath, Toris turned into the room. At the moment, only Antonio, Mathias, Berwald, Rodriech, and Gilbert were there.

"Th-The fence... It fell. They're coming in."

1:30

Francis swung on his backpack that held all their essentials as Matthew, too, gathered his things. Rodriech had ran down the hall shouting that they all needed to get up to the meeting room on the top floor. Only briefly did he mention that it was because of the biters coming in. However, Francis understood immediately that was the reason for it.

"We have to go, now!" Matthew informed. There were hammering fists banging on the walls of the building as the biters made it to the building. Time was running out and it was running out fast.

Alfred and Arthur were waiting outside their room anxiously. The American was looking around frighteningly as the rumbles of the biters were louder than ever.

Arthur quickly put both hands on Alfred's shoulders. "It's okay, Alfred. It's nothing bad. We'll be okay, alright? We just need to get to the meeting room on the top floor. That's all. You can do that, right?" It was key that the American was calm right now. If he broke down and cried like how he had done before would only lead to disaster for them all.

Fortunately, Alfred listened well with Arthur and calmed down a bit.

The door of the room swung open as a Canadian and Frenchman ran out. Not needing any words to be exchanged, Arthur took Alfred's hand and the two started following the others down the hall.

Unfortunately, they got the memo late and the biters were already piling into the building. Windows were smashed in by decomposing hands, faces of the dead already pushing in as they heard fresh meat move about the building. Some cleverer ones managed to barge down the front door and started hobbling through the halls on the hunt. It'd take them a while to navigate upstairs to the meeting room so there was still time for the remaining four to make it there. But it was running out fast.

As they ran, the biters near the staircase that led to the floor of the meeting room had begun to climb through the window. They growled and blocked the pathway for the family. There were four inside and more slowly threatening to come in.

"Francis what do we do?!" Arthur asked with a tone of distress. He turned his head quickly around them, noticing that there were a couple slowly coming up behind them. Were they too late?

The Frenchman scanned the area for an opening or anything to keep them from the biters.

"There!" He pointed to a large enough gap between a biter and the staircase. If they ran fast enough they'd be able to slip through with no problems.

They all looked to the gap and nodded and began to run towards it. Francis ran through with no problem. Matthew followed quickly. Alfred pushed in front of Arthur as they both went to follow.

"Shit-" Alfred felt the hand that was pushing him disappear as Arthur fell to the ground. A biter managed to grab his ankle and pull him to the floor, slowly creeping up to dig it's teeth into him.

Alfred's eyes widened as he quickly ran away from the gap and went to Arthur. He swiftly kicked the biter in the face and jammed his foot onto its head, splattering brains all over the floor. It was a quick action but left Alfred smiling widely. He did it. He saved someone. He helped someone. He didn't let fear take hold of him this time. The American looked down at Arthur, holding out a hand.

"Are you okay?" Alfred questioned, the bright smile still on his face.

Arthur stared up at him, taking his hand. This change in Alfred... He was smiling now. It wasn't just a forced smile, but it was genuine. It was the signature American smile. The smile that glowed at the sight of cheeseburgers and French fries. The smile that lit up at the talk of heroism and justice. The smile that was always followed with an obnoxious laugh that would always tick off those around him. That smile... It was back. He was coming back.

"I'm okay." Is what Arthur was about to say. It was the words just about to leave his mouth when it was snatched away from him.

The hand holding his tightened a bit as Alfred's smile disappeared. It was as if time suddenly stopped and everything around them froze.

Arthur stared in horror up at Alfred as the color drained from his face. Alfred stared back at him then slowly trailed his eyes down to his stomach. A bony hand now dripping with blood protruded from his stomach as a biter behind him snarled in hunger.

One of the most precious things in life is the gift of time. Often people take it for granted and just think of it as another day, another hour. They don't appreciate how little time there is in life and how many wonderful things happen in time. An hour could hold the joys of a proposal. A week could hold a memorable vacation trip that will never be forgotten. A day could be extremely bad but make he next day one of the best. So much can happen in time and we often don't even think about it much. We don't cherish the values granted by time until they don't have any more time left. That's how Alfred felt now as he felt death's grasp on his heart.

The biter retracted its hand from Alfred, causing the American gasp. This whole time he never took his eyes off of Arthur, who did the same with the highest level of fear. As if in slow motion, Alfred's legs gave way and the American started to fall to the ground.

"A-Alfred!" Arthur shouted once he found his voice to speak again. He jumped up and caught Alfred in his arms before the other fell to the floor. The biter growled and reached over to grab them but Arthur was too quick for it. Swiftly unhooking his pocket knife, he pushed away its decomposing arms and stabbed the blade into its skull. Once that was over, he snapped back over to the dying boy in his arms.

Alfred stared up at him as Arthur held him close to his chest. The warmth of the other was comforting as Alfred gradually felt himself grow colder.

To his surprise, he wasn't scared. Usually he'd be terrified of this. Back at the ship, Alfred would be horrified when he was hurt so badly he was close to death. Back there he was scared to die. However, now, he wasn't scared of death. Maybe it was because it was because he saved Arthur. Or maybe it was because he knew it was his time to go.

"Shit. Shit. You're g-going to be okay, Alfred. You will b-be. Oh God.. Oh God... This is all m-my fault.." Tears painted Arthur's cheeks as he stared down at Alfred. There had to be something to save him, right? There had to be! But there wasn't and that hard truth wasn't one Arthur was ready to accept. "P-Please... Don't die.. Don't die, Alfred.. Don't go away.."

Alfred stared up at Arthur, his sapphire eyes gleaming with tears as the light started to flicker off and on behind them. "Arthur... Don't cry. Please, don't cry.. It's okay.. I will be okay, but not in the way you want... J-Just.. Please.. Don't cry.." He could never stand to see Arthur cry.

The first time Alfred saw Arthur cry was when he first had to leave him to go back to his country. He was still a young nation and when he started to cry, Arthur started to softly cry as he comforted the small American. Alfred knew Arthur was trying to conceal his cries when that event took place but he still could see through his lies of comfort. That's what Alfred admired about Arthur. The Brit always kept up a strong heart even if everything was falling. There were countless times when Alfred saw through the other's fake smile to assure him. But he played around to make Arthur feel that it worked.

Now he had to do that.

"A-Arthur..." Alfred choked out, making Arthur quiet down for a second. "I may die- wait, yeah I will die- but please d-don't be sad... I put myself in d-danger for you.. I wanted to protect y-you.. That's what heroes do, right? Protect th-those in danger... I was trying to b-be a hero.. This isn't your f-fault and it's something I did.. I wanted, for once, to be the hero for my hero..."

Arthur sniffed, feeling more tears drip off his chin. "Oh Alfred..." He reached over and brushed some of Alfred's hair out of his face, shuddering slightly at how cold Alfred's skin was. "I love you... I'm so proud of the nation you became... I'm so proud of how strong you became and how wonderful you are.. I know, I wasn't the best at raising you, but I never thought any little of you. I've always been so pleased with who you turned out to be. Y-You.. You never failed to amaze me...

Alfred chuckled weakly, his eyes begin to feel heavy. "Thank you, dude... That means a lot to hear from you. I.. I love you, too.." He coughed which turned into a sharp wince as he furrowed his brows tightly at the pain in his abdomen. Arthur made a little hushing noise as he started to slowly rock Alfred in his arms. Alfred appreciated this gesture and smiled a bit, leaning his head against the Brit's chest.

His heart beat was so strong compared to his faltering one.

"Hey.. Artie.." Alfred mumbled, his voice extremely fragile. Arthur looked down at him, putting on a shaky smile.

"Y-Yes, Alfred? What is it, dear?"

"Can we... Can we play toy soldiers, again?" The words were now just barely above a whisper as the American's eyes slowly closed. "It's been a while... I still have them in my storage room... Th-They're my favorite..."

Arthur felt a sharp pain in his heart at those words. He actually kept them? All this time, he believed Alfred had thrown away everything from his colonial age- especially those little wooden soldiers.

"Of course we can." Arthur answered, feeling his eyes well up with more tears as he noticed how relaxed Alfred was becoming. "W-We can play it as many times as you want.."

Alfred's lips twitched into a little smile at that.

"I can't wait... Thank you... for everything."

The exact moment Alfred's last breath was made was the exact moment Arthur felt his whole world collapse. Sure, the world had already collapsed but his world was the only 'world' that kept things the slightest bit of okay. He stared down at the lifeless American in silence. He stared at his still face that still held his small smile. He stared down at the boy he found in the fields that one day. He stared down at the boy who always wished upon adventure. He stared down at the boy who went against him to be on his own. He stared down at the boy who was always filled with hope and promise. He stared down at the boy who gave him headaches and horrible illness every Fourth of July. He stared down at the boy who he promised to keep safe no matter what.

Not once did Arthur ever think he'd see the great United States of America come to an end.

A blood curdling scream pierced through the silence that settled between the two. Arthur bowed his head as he held Alfred's limp body tightly to his chest. Tears fell from his face and splashed upon Alfred's pale one. He screamed and sobbed over the boy he gave everything to and cared for deeply. He stroked Alfred's hair as he sobbed, hoping this was all an elaborate nightmare he would soon wake from. Daggers seemed to grow in his chest and stab his heart every time a tear fell.

"W-Wake up... Please, Alfred... Wake up... D-Don't die... Don't l-leave me, again..." Arthur put his hand against the American's face, gently rubbing his thumb on his cheek. No response. The Brit shook his head as his trembled from his cries.

It was as if every nerve and bone inside him broke. The cries that erupted from the Brit were the loudest cries ever made from him. He'd been through wars, lost precious lives, was abandoned by those he loved, faced unimaginable horrors and pain- yet, the pain and despair he felt now was incomparable to all that put together.

When Arthur's screams and wails broke through the air, the nearby biters around them stopped and fell to the ground. It was as if an invisible force stripped them of their fake life. A fact that wasn't pondered upon by them, that that was caused because of the little magic Arthur still had. Apparently his strong grief and emotions triggered any magic he had left.

Arthur flinched a bit when he felt a hand suddenly make contact with his shoulder. He was all ready to fight them if it was a biter but he only broke down crying even more when he saw Francis and Matthew standing behind him. They killed the two biters that blocked the path and others when they saw Alfred go down.**

Both had a look of pure sadness etched on their face. Matthew stared at Alfred's body in complete disbelief. He couldn't believe it. His brother, the person whom he looked up to and saw an inspiration to become stronger, was dead. No.. No he can't be. The hero can't be dead.

"Arthur... We have to go. Please, let go of Alfred... We have to go." Francis spoke gently and in the more comforting tone he could muster. Arthur jerked his shoulder away from his touch and held Alfred closer to his chest.

"N-No! I'm not leaving him... I'm not leaving A-Alfred." The Briton sobbed, his body trembling against the cold one in his arms. Alfred's head still leaned against his chest but now limply as no more life pumped through his veins. Francis furrowed his brows his pain as he stared at his weeping lover. He couldn't bare to see the other so broken... so sad.

"Mon Cher, please..-"

Arthur shook his head once again. Francis paused for a moment, glancing over at Matthew. "Okay.. We won't leave him.. Matthew will bring Alfred with us, okay? He'll carry him up to the meeting room.. is that okay?"

Truthfully, Arthur didn't want to part ways with Alfred ever but deep down he knew it was needed. Very reluctantly, he allowed Matthew to carry Alfred off his lap and into his arms. Matthew whimpered a bit when he held his dead brother, not baring to look at his face. Slowly, Arthur stood back on his feet and immediately buried his face into Francis' shoulder. Racking sobs were thrown into his shoulder as Francis did his best to comfort his broken lover.

"Shh, shh.. It's okay. It's okay.. I got you.." Francis whispered softly, stroking Arthur's hair and rubbing his back. He looked over at Matthew, a sad expression crossing his face.

They both were in utter despair at the events that occurred but, unlike Arthur, they knew they had to keep strong and not let their emotions slow them down.

"Don't worry, papa." Matthew said quietly so only Francis heard. "I know what to do..."

Francis nodded as Matthew picked up Arthur's knife. In order to be able to bring Alfred up to the meeting room, he would have to destroy his brain. If his brain was destroyed, he wouldn't come back as a biter.

With that, what was left of the family walked up the steps to the meeting room.

0:00

Inside, the ones who made it alive, kept silent to themselves.

Mathias sat against the wall as he struggled to find a good sitting position. The wounds on his torso prevented him from standing up or sitting down properly in a chair so Berwald set him down against the wall.

Berwald stood nearby him, observing everyone else who made it in safely.

Toris was lying down on the floor as Ivan examined his leg. There was some fracture in his leg that was caused from their mysterious predicament and needed to be tended to but, in their situation, that was impossible. Nonetheless, Ivan tried his best to comfort the injured other.

Gilbert stood near the window, staring down at the biters below. There were more now. They still came from the forests around the perimeter. It seemed like they were multiplying. Silently, he wondered if the biters had sex and populated just to kill them but that was just a silly thought... They all were too hideous to ever get laid.

Rodriech sat at one of the seats of the elongated conference table. He tapped the wooden surface absentmindedly. It wasn't for music. There was no point in music now. It held no value now. It was simply a sound for the ghosts of the past.

Matthew was sitting in the corner of the room, burying his face in his knees. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to be anywhere but here. Unlike Arthur, he was quiet about his grief- just like how he always was with his feelings. Alfred F. Jones, his heroic and strong brother, dead? That wasn't believable. The Canadian couldn't wrap his mind around that. It was too surreal.

He sat next to Alfred's body that he placed in the corner of the room. He couldn't bare to look at it... Matthew refused to see how lifeless he was.

Arthur was on Francis' lap on the floor, curled up as he buried his face in the other's body. If this was any other time than now, he would've been completely embarrassed for appearing like a baby but none of that mattered now. He didn't care if he was in a diaper with a pacifier. He was in too much pain to care about anything now.

Francis wrapped his arms around the hysteric Brit and merely rubbed his back and stroked his hair comfortingly. Yes, he was very distraught about Alfred's death. However, he had the better mind and knew it was best to stay calm and collected in this situation. There was danger right outside their door. Crying wouldn't solve anything. But he didn't say this Arthur. He had to be there for him. Francis knew now, his present objective, was to aid to his lover and make sure he was okay.

Antonio sat near the distraught family, keeping to himself. He stared blankly at the floor, feeling himself numb up. Feliciano... His precious friend Feliciano... Him too? First Lovi, now him? It was as if the world was just having the time of its life stripping the Spaniard of all those he cared for in the world.

Ludwig sat at the conference table, far away from where Rodriech was. His brilliant blue eyes stared at the polished table surface in shock of what happened before. Feliciano was dead. His lover. His precious Italian friend. He was dead. His body was being eaten away downstairs in the basement by the corpse of his own brother. The German buried his face in his hands at thought.

He didn't tell anyone Feliciano was killed but everyone could get the vibe. They could tell by his absence that he didn't make it. Just the same as they obviously knew Alfred died as well when Arthur came in bawling as his body was brought in.

However, Ludwig wasn't completely out of it because of Feliciano's death. Another part of it was of what will happen next. He had a solution to this whole apocalypse. He did. He knew exactly how to fix this whole thing but, again, he was too reluctant on sharing it. It was a horrible solution but... it was the only one possible.

"Ludwig," Rodriech had walked over to him and sat down in a nearby chair. The German flinched a bit at his voice and looked up, slightly worried and what he wished to say.

"Yes?"

"What... What do we do? There's no way out. We won't be able to survive here for long without the resources we need. We-"

Ludwig held up a hand, silencing the Austrian. Well, looks like now he had to tell them what he found out. Then again, he wouldn't have any choice. They were either going to know about the solution and do it or do it eventually without knowing it.

Slowly, Ludwig stood up from his chair, facing everyone.

"Listen, we've had quite a morning. I've barricaded the staircase to keep the biters out for a while. Let's all just recompose ourselves, regain our strength."

He paused before continuing.

"Tonight, I will tell you the plan. I've found a solution to stop this whole apocalypse."

 **_**  
 **A/N:**

 **Listen up! I've started a new story called 'We Wait Until Dawn'. It's a human AU that's a crossover with the horror/psychological game Until Dawn. But I'm adding my own lil twist to it so whether you played the game or not, you'll enjoy it. Please check it out!**

 **Back to the chapter: yikes sorry it was so long. I would've shortened it but it would've taken away the feel it gave off.**  
 **(To tell the truth: I choked up when I wrote Feli and Alfred's death ah)**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed his heartbreaking chapter! Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love to read them ;)**


	27. This is Where We Fall -part 2-

The biters disbanded from outside their door to just roaming the first floor and outside around the perimeter. Just for good measures the staircase outside the meeting room was barricaded with chairs and any moveable tables.

This was the last rest. The last break. The last breath. No one needed to say anything about it for everyone knew it was.

Ludwig sat anxiously at the meeting table, his face buried in his hands. Mentally, he was trying to figure out how to word the whole solution he discovered. To tell the truth, he was terrified. That was not a term he would lightly use with himself. Yet, here he was. Ludwig truly feeling terrified.

Luckily, no one was eager on knowing what to do. They were all occupied mourning their loss or having relapsed feelings of defeat. They all kept to themselves as time ticked by.

"Mind if I sit?" Gilbert walked over to where Antonio sat. The Spaniard hadn't moved once since he first entered the room. He remained against the wall with his knees hugged against his chest.

At the Prussian's question, Antonio merely shrugged. Gilbert sat down beside him, saying nothing.

Even though no words were exchanged, there was a comforting aura being passed through the two. The mere knowledge and feel of the other beside them was comforting enough.

On the other side of the room, Ivan moved Toris over closer to a window so he could gaze outside. The Russian was aiding all he could to the injured Lithuanian. Nothing in the room could help his broken leg so Ivan had to merely help by taking Toris's mind off the pain.

"Do you want me to do anything for you?" Ivan asked, really wanting to do whatever he could to help his friend. Toris shook his head with a forced smile.

"No, it's okay, sir. I am okay." He said softly, feeling uncomfortable how Ivan was helping him. It didn't feel right to have his past boss come to his needs like a servant. "Thank you though."

Beside them was Mathias and Berwald. Mathias was fiddling with the Lukas's iron cross clip in his hands, running his thumb gently over the red hue that stained it's cold metal. How long had it been since then? It must've been at least a few weeks maybe a month. He remembered then he was having his last thoughts. Yet, here he was, having them again.

Berwald leaned against the wall beside the injured Dane. He tended to the other's wounds when they first made it in. It wasn't as bad as before but with the status it has now, Mathias won't be able to go so far on his own.

In the corner of the room, Matthew sat beside Alfred's body. Despite being so close to the body of his brother, he couldn't bring himself to look at the other. Even through death, the Canadian had a strong obligation to keep the other safe. Of course, Alfred didn't need to be kept safe anymore... that job has already been failed.

"I'm sorry..." Matthew whispered, bowing his head to stare down at his lap. The statement was directed to no one living but more like the spirit of someone up above.

 _I'm so sorry, Alfred... I made a vow to protect you. I promised to always be by you and that no harm would come to you. But... Here I am. Sitting beside your.. your corpse. You've always been my hero; you've always protected me. I wanted to repay that debt. Yet, here you are, dead beside me._

A couple of warm tears dripped off Matthew's chin as he raised an arm to wipe his face. No, he couldn't cry again. Not again. He had to be strong. He couldn't be weak. But... what for? Who did he need to protect and be strong for? Alfred was gone. Arthur and Francis are stronger than him already. Everyone else was taking care of themselves.

Some feet away, Arthur still was curled up in Francis's arms. He didn't move from his spot since they first arrived and the Frenchman made no action to make him. Both were distressed beyond belief- especially Arthur. After some time, Francis broke down crying as well with his lover. It was a miserable sight. Arthur buried his face into Francis' shoulder as Francis held him tightly to his chest, both in hysterics. Matthew joined in with them, hugging them both all together. However, he stopped his tear flow quicker due to the hard realization that there's no point anymore.

So, here the fathers are: Francis gently cradling Arthur in his arms as he mindlessly touched strands of his hair. Both as silent as ever. Both desperately trying to hold themselves together.

"Ludwig." Rodriech's voice broke through the endless silence, only acquiring some of their attention. The German looked up from his hands, staring at the Austrian. His blue eyes were coated in worry and despair yet his expression was as hard as ever. Rodriech knew how much he was struggling to keep up his hard exterior so he spoke as gently and as mindful as he could, "Are you ready to tell us the solution?"

That attracted everyone's attention by now, sending all the pressure of everyone's fate on his shoulders.

"Y-Yes." Ludwig responded, not even paying attention to his stutter. Standing up from the meeting table, he stood before everyone, making sure all could see him and he could see them.

All eyes fixated on him, each one holding a different set of emotion and story. Some looked to him desperately. Some looked to him hopelessly. Some looked to him blankly. Nonetheless, whatever look he got made his heart ache even more.

"As you know, we are in a tight situation." Ludwig began, licking his lips in thought. "There are biters outside our door. We have no food nor water in here to keep us well for a long period of time. We have casualties with some of us that prevent any defense and way to fight if needed. And... And it's time I told you guys the solution to this whole apocalypse."

Francis tilted his head, his voice hoarse. "You know how to stop this?"

The German nodded, feeling his chest tighten up a bit. "Yes... I know how to stop it."

"That's wonderful! We can save the world!" Mathias exclaimed with a little smile. "What is it? What do we do?"

Ludwig cringed slightly at that, afraid of what they would say once he told them what they had to do. He kept quiet for a moment, heightening the suspense in the room.

"Listen," he began slowly, "I've researched countless other ways to resolve this whole epidemic or whatever this is. And, there's only one solution that will 100% guarantee resolution and safety for everyone here. The solution is... Evolution."

Silence was his response. Thankfully, it wasn't a huge and abrupt break of conversation. Instead, he received tilts of heads and the confused looks that beckoned him to elaborate.

Ludwig let out a shaky breath. "Evolution... We are nations. We are the personifications of the different land masses that make up the world. Right now, we _are_ the world. Without us, civilization wouldn't exist and it'd be chaos running amuck. Leaders, government, culture, economy, population, races, ethnicities, everything that make up the world is formed by us. That being said... We are what is keeping the world from healing– from moving on from this horrid lifestyle. In order for this world to get better we have to..-"

"Die." Gilbert finished his sentence, eyes wide. "We... We have to die?"

His brother nodded hesitantly, quickly speaking again before anyone interjected. "W-We have to die. When we die, the old world will die and a new one will form. A new one with all living spaces reset and new to take over. The new one will grow accustom to this living condition and eventually clear it from all its harm. So, in order to heal the world we have to kill the world to give the opportunity for a new world to form. A new world without these pests. That's.. That's the only way."

Silence. Once again. However, this silence wasn't confusion centered. It was filled with shock and disbelief.

"What?" Arthur spoke up, sliding off of Francis's lap for the first time since they came there. He stared at the German, not believing what he heard.

Ludwig felt everyone's eyes pierce at him, all not believing what he said. This was bound to happen. He predicted this reaction, except he expected more people to have an outburst and argue about it. That didn't happen though for everyone secretly already accepted defeat. Nonetheless, they still couldn't believe their ears and that response alone sent the German into a panic.

"I-I'm sorry. I really am." He stuttered, causing everyone even more surprise to see him appear... anxious. "I tried, I really tried to find another solution. I read all the books in the study here twice and did countless papers and equations and theories to try and fix this without throwing away our lives. But nothing matched up. There was no other solution possible. This was the only one I could find. I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His words transitioned into hasty mumbles of the same two words.

Gilbert quickly walked over around the meeting table and wrapped his arms around his little brother. The past months stress and pain that was condensed and bottled up broke free and Ludwig found himself sobbing into his brother's shoulder. "Shh, shh... It's okay. It's okay. You did so much, little brother. You found the solution and you will be the one to save the world. You've done so much, I'm so proud of you. You have no need to be sorry."

It was easy to deduce that Ludwig had gone through a lot this apocalypse. No one really knew what he was dealing with for he always locked it away so he dealt with it alone. No one had any concern with him for he covered it all up with his little lies and deceiving exterior. While everyone was grieving and dealing with physical and emotional wounds, he aided to them whilst covering his own. It's not their fault though. That's how the male wanted it. He wanted to face it alone. But, it all came out now. And Ludwig had no strength left to hold it back in.

An uneasy aura settled about the room. This was serious then. Truthfully, they all felt pity towards the German since he had to deal with this fact for so long by himself.

Toris stared wide eyed at the floor, the news slowly filtering in his mind. "So... We have to die." It was a restatement everyone needed that confirmed that that was the solution.

Everyone in this room was the remaining nations of the world. All other nations were dead and had already fulfilled the earth's desires. They all needed to die in order for the world's rebirth to commence. The longer they stayed alive the longer it'll take for everything to resolve for the better. It was a horrible conclusion but it was the only probable one that ensured everyone's safety.

"What happens when we die?" Matthew said, voice tainted in a slight fear. "Are we dead for good? Is this really the end for us?"

No one answered right away to that.

In the past, nations have "died" but they've always been revived. However, now they didn't have their invincibility nor their immortality. They were as vulnerable as their own citizens. To think that after centuries, they all would have to meet their final end. Their last chapter.

It frightened all of them.

"I-I'm scared to die. I don't want to die." Ivan whimpered, tears filling his violet eye. His words spoke for them all since that's all they were thinking about.

Ludwig, gaining back some composure, pulled back from his brother's hold. He bit his lip to keep himself from crying again before continuing what he had to say.

"I know... We're all scared of dying. We never died in the past and having the sudden realization that that is what we have to do is truly terrifying." He took a deep breath. "But... Let's not forget our purpose. We were not personified for show. We weren't put here to physically represent our nation. We were put here to protect our countries and make decisions that ensure safety on our citizens. We are here, even to this day, to take care of our people. Right now, there are people out there struggling to live. The remaining population can't grow and flourish from this as long as we are alive. We are the essence of this earth. We need to protect it. We need to give it a chance to grow and mend itself."

It was a convincing speech for everyone. They all knew he was right. Dying was the only option. As morbid as it is, there was truly no other solution. Death finally awaits it's chance to take the world's oldest living beings.

"And... What happens when we die?" Rodriech questioned next, surprisingly stoic at all of this. "We are not normal humans. Certainly there is a different fate to us all. No one could possibly take up our roles as nations. We have so much history and experience."

Ludwig nodded at that, having pondered over that exact thought countless times before. "I can't say exactly what will happen, but I do have theories. We could revive into countries once more, that is if our countries come back. And even if that does happen, we won't have any memories of our past history."

"We won't remember anything?" Arthur questioned, aghast at that possibility. The German nodded.

"Yes. When the old world dies, so does our history. When we die, we lose all our history and memories. So, if we come back, we will have no recollection of anything before the apocalypse. All our relationships and experiences will be as if it never happened."

Francis squeezed Arthur's and Matthew's hands. That meant the family wouldn't be a family anymore. He wouldn't love nor know Arthur. All their history and insults and bedtime talk would go to oblivion. Their cherished times with Matthew and Alfred would all be to nothing. Everything they've ever done in their life would disappear.

"However, another theory is..." Ludwig continued, pulling everyone's attention back. "new personifications could be born and we will be thrown into oblivion. Or, we could come back as normal human beings and be granted a humane and normal life. Yet, with whatever happens, our memories and history are bound to be erased."

It was hard to say what the atmosphere in the room was. Everyone was reacting differently to different sets of the news. Francis and Arthur were worried about losing their memories and forgetting all that's happened since the birth of their country. Matthew, Ivan, Rodriech, and Antonio were afraid of the idea of death. Berwald, Mathias, Ludwig, and Toris were contemplating what would happen after all that and how their fates and how the world's fate would turn out.

The apocalypse will end once the nations die. That is a fact. It won't end instantly, but their death will free the guaranteed possibility of it happening. Ludwig, while researching, knew this would end the apocalypse with a 100% success rate. It would only take time.

"H-How do we die?" Antonio asked, green eyes masked with an unreadable gaze.

Ludwig looked at everyone once more, feeling his body relax a bit. "Like I said, we are still nations. We may not have the immortality nor role as them, but that still is who we are. And as nations, we must protect people on this Earth. That is our job; that is our purpose... There are hundreds of biters outside this building, even inside. Now, if they run free, surviving people throughout this land are in danger. We... We have to fight. This is our last fight. Our last battle. Our last war. So, let's make it the best and most memorable and mean something."

"A suicide mission." Arthur mumbled, staring down at his hands. The more harsher way of putting things, but that was just how the Briton was.

The shuffles of the biters outside and in the lower floors could barely be heard through the silence that blanketed the room. No life was heard outside. No birds chirping, no swaying leaves in the wind, nothing. Only the footsteps of the dead, aching to drag more into their grave. Little did they know that they would have ten more people dammed into oblivion.

"When do we... fight?" Francis asked, struggling to say the last word. It was a mere curtain to cover over the fact that the real question he was asking was 'when do we die?'.

"Dawn. We'll go fight at dawn." Ludwig responded, the hard truth weighing down on his heart. "When the first moments of the sunrise, we'll go fight. That's when... we battle."

Dawn. The time of it all. The moon shined at its highest peak in the sky as of that moment, meaning they had some time until dawn. Those precious last hours before they all run head on into Death's arms. Last hours with those they love (who are still alive). Last hours remembering and reliving their thoughts and memories. It was going to be a tough hour.

That was the end of the speech, end of the whole presentation on the resolution. Ludwig sat back down on at the meeting table, staring at its surface blankly. It wasn't as hard as he thought, but it still hurt.

 _I couldn't find another solution. I couldn't do it. I said I would; I vowed it would. Yet... I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it._

"Is your leg okay?"

"Yeah. Your eye?"

"It's fine."

Toris leaned against Ivan's shoulder where they sat on the floor, staring off before them. Truthfully, Toris wasn't terrified of dying. He'd suffered so much in his past to the point where he even wished upon death. So, having it finally come at his door step wasn't as frightening as how the others were. He had been waiting for it to arrive.

Ivan, on the other hand, was very scared. He, too, had his own share of painful experiences and suffering yet he never thought of actually dying. Being a nation, they had the luxury of never worrying about their last breath. They could be dismembered, beheaded, hung, poisoned, malnourished, shot, etc., but never die. They never had to worry about dying... until now.

With a sigh, Ivan grabbed the bandage wrapped around his eye and pulled it off. Toris looked up at him, giving him a sad smile. Where his beautifully amethyst colored eye would be now was a closed, battered eyelid blotched with purple and red. He could still feel where the knife pierced through it. The Russian glanced down at Toris with his good eye, forcing a tiny smile upon his lips.

"You look great." The Lithuanian said, holding the other's larger hand in his. "No need to hide it anymore."

Ivan sighed at that, turning away a bit. "There's no point in hiding it anymore. Either way, we won't need to hide anything for long."

"You ever kiss a guy?"

"Who hasn't?"

"You're right."

Gilbert and Mathias sat next to eachother against the wall, talking absentmindedly about who knows what. It was their last hours and them being them they always try and lighten the mood in every situation. Berwald stood by, only half listening to what they were saying.

"Ever do anything extremely weird?" Mathias asked, glancing over at the albino.

Gilbert thought for a moment, raising a brow. "Yeah. Once, I got so drunk and started making out with a tree. What made it weird was that I was actually turned on when I felt it's leaves fall on me." Mathias let out a snicker at that, just imagining the other all over a tree and how anyone around him would think. "You?"

"Hell yeah." The Dane answered, smirking a bit in thought. "Once, I got stranded in Liechtenstein and had to stay at her place for a while. While I was there, I had to borrow some of her clothes. I ended up flying back to my country in a kid sized dress with bows in my hair. The dress just barely came down my thighs. It was awful."

Gilbert let out a snort at that, can't even imaging how that must've been.

Despite the two's attempts to make laughter and jokes and good times happen, it didn't fulfill as they would wish. Behind each laugh and story, they still were in defeat inwardly at the thought of their death only being hours away.

"Are you scared?"

"Of course I am."

"Me too."

Francis, Matthew, and Arthur sat on the opposite side of the room from the others. Francis sat in the middle of Arthur and Matthew, holding both of their hands in his.

"Francis, I don't want to forget you. I don't want to forget any of this." Arthur mumbled, hugging the other's arm as if latching himself on him. "I don't want to forget you. I don't want to forget Matthew. I don't want to forget.. forget Alfred.. I don't want to forget our family. I-I don't want to forget any of this." Tears wet the side of the Frenchman's arm the more the Briton spoke on.

Francis leaned over and planted a kiss on the other's head. "Please don't cry, mon cher. Please..." He hated seeing the other cry for it made him cry.

Unlike his father's, Matthew wasn't as concerned with forgetting. He'd been forgotten so many times in the past. It was as if everyone actually forgetting was nothing. It'd just be another day. That is, if fate granted them another day.

"I love you both s-so much... I can't bare the thought of one day possibly waking up and not knowing who you are." Arthur cried softly, intaking a sharp breath. "Wh-What if we come back and we never cross paths. What if we never m-meet and I never see you again... I don't w-want that to ever happen.. But-"

"Shhh, Angleterre." Francis soothed, using his old name that he would address him as. He rubbed his thumb against both his and Matthew's hands, squeezing them tightly. "I promise you both. Whatever happens in the future, we will be together. This is not the end for us, okay? We will be together if that chance is given to us. I promise."

Of course, even he was uncertain of that possibility. Who knew if they were brought back that he would even remember this promise. Would the promise even be valid then? Would it still exist?

"Promise?" Arthur and Matthew asked at the same time.

"Promise."

Rodriech and Ludwig sat in silence at the meeting table, both keeping to themselves in their own mind.

Ludwig stared down at his palms, shuddering at the constant thought of their end.

 _This is it, isn't it? This... is where we fall._

 **A/N:**

 **Yikes, please don't kill me.**

 **Sorry if this chapter is kinda boring or slow. I thought it'd be nice to put in a kinda chill chapter with not much action since the last chapter was very packed.**

 **The next chapter is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue afterwards. :)**  
 **I promise I will give you guys a satisfying ending that'll (hopefully) leave you smiling.**

 **Also! Just to let you guys know, if I ever lead any of the characters' informations open and unexplained, I meant to leave it like that! I like giving the reader, you, to play along with the story! So, whatever happened to Ivan and Toris, you choose what happens!**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love to read them!** ❤️


	28. This is Where We Fall -part 3-

The second the first morning rays glowed around the outline of the trees and illuminated the buildings around, they knew it was time. The day's first breath signified that this would soon be their last. No one announced the beginning of dawn. No one needed to inform them that they were to die very soon.

Instead, everyone stood up from wherever they lied or sat and stared at the door. It was almost like a robotic move and they all had wires connecting them together. Ludwig took the first step and walked over to the door of the meeting room. Pressing his ear to its wooden surface, he could infer to that the biters had dispersed and roamed about only on the lower floor and outside.

That's where their battleground would be.

"We split up." Ludwig explained, his voice uneasy as he realized this was his last battle command he would issue out. "Stay with a group or pair or by yourself... however you prefer to fight." The implied meaning was 'however you wish to die' and everyone picked that up.

Everyone walked over to him now, or hobbled when it came to Toris and Mathias's cases. They all stood side by side with their shoulders touching. That's when the surprising thing happened. Slowly, each one of them reached to their sides and grabbed the hands of the person beside them. No one looked at each other but they made contact through touch. Ludwig faced the united nations, feeling a lump form in his throat at how they stared at him.

For years, he would yell above their chatter. He would pry Arthur and Francis off from one another before they got into a fist fight. He would groan when his brother started to become egotistical and taunt Elizaveta. He would glance beside him and see Feliciano taking a nap where he sat, usually accompanied by Lovino who leaned against his shoulder. He would feel his blood boil in irritation as all the mixture of different tongues and accents crashed together as no one found a level of ground they all agreed on.

Ludwig faced that for years. Yet, at the end of it all, here were the remaining nations of the world holding hands in unison, silently listening to what was being said and obeying thoroughly. There were no arguments, no harsh words, no reluctance on complying to orders. Everyone was standing together. Everyone was ready for their final battle.

"When we get out there," Ludwig continued to instruct, trying to keep himself together through all this, "we fight until we can no longer stand. If someone is injured, or if you are injured, do not stop fighting. As how Arthur put it, this is a... suicide mission. The battle ends when we die. So, no matter what, don't stop fighting. That's our only objective. To fight as many of these... these pests so they don't bring harm to those left on this world. We won't do significant change right now since the biters below aren't even a tenth of what inhabits the entirety of this world, but it will do something. It will be significant as time passes..."

He paused for a moment, licking his lips. Did he say everything that was needed to be said? Did he explain the whole plan? Was there anything left out? Truthfully, the German was searching for anything to stall the moment before they all went out that door; before they all parted ways forever.

"I know, I'm not one to show any sentiment and touchy feelings but..." Ludwig sighed, locking eyes with each and every one of them as he followed down the line. A sad smile grew on his lips. "It has been a pleasure fighting along, and against, you all. Our histories and pasts may have been rough and filled with a massive mix of hate and allegiance, but nonetheless, it has been an honor to know each and every one of you. Whatever happens to us after this... I hope for the best for us all."

A little chuckle came from the Prussian on the end of the line as he reached over and took his brother's hand in his. "Hush up, will you? How pathetic would it be to fight with stuffy noses and teary eyes? I want to look good, dammit."

That stirred a mixture of soft laughter from everyone. Ludwig nodded, his smile now bittersweet.

"I suppose you're right, bruder." Leave it to Gilbert to always lighten the mood. The taller German looked at everyone in silence for a moment before giving a little nod with his head.

"This is it... I'm sure we will meet again in the future."

With that, Ludwig opened the door of the meeting room. Everyone reluctantly filed out and down the stairs as the chains of death locked around their ankles. Each step was a step closer to death row.

...

[ Gilbert's P.O.V ]

Hell yeah, I get some insight in this.

The moment Ludwig opened the door, everyone split up at the bottom of the stairs. Francis and Eyebrows ventured down the hall and towards the parlor where a bunch of those nasty dead people were. Berwald half carried Mathias outside towards the back. The big Russian dick half carried Toris towards the kitchen to where a couple of biters hobbled into.

I was quite surprised to see Matthew request to fight alone. He ran off into one of the hallways on the second floor, leaving Francis and Arthur staring after him. How pitiful.

Ah, but that doesn't matter now. The group I'm in is with my brother, Toni, and Piano Ass. What a killer group this is, huh? Ha. Get it. Killer. Cause we're going to be killed.

We ran out to the front yard of the building to where a majority of the biters were. Luckily, or maybe it was unfortunately, for us this is where a majority of all those biters were. All were walking about whilst minding their own boring business but soon turned one by one as our footsteps reached them. So, this will be our final ground.

"There's so many..." Antonio breathed in shock beside me. He was staring out at the large mass of biters that now started to walk towards us. There had to be at least thirty, maybe even forty.

"You ready?" I asked him, flashing him a grin. He gave me an uneasy nod as a he returned my smile equally.

"You know I always am, mi amigo."

Just like the old days... I remember just as if it were yesterday Toni, Francis, and I were teaming up to fight against Rodriech. Of course, at that time, we had the whole world and all we could ever ask for. We didn't have to worry significantly about our own well beings. But, I'm not going to let that spoil this awesome time.

I watched Antonio run straight into the herd of biters, screaming as he did so. When he ran, I briefly got a glimpse of his eyes. They were filled with anger; filled with pain. The green was vibrant and bright when the biters reflected off of it.

So... He's using the thought of Lovino and Feliciano to aid him in this battle. That's all that ever was on his mind now. He would mumble about it and occasionally talk to me about it. Soon he'll be reunited with them both. I guess that means I'll be reunited with her after this as well...

Shaking that out of my thoughts, I, too, ran into the opponents cluster. The moment I stepped before them, everything swirled.

I stabbed my knife into multiple skulls; I couldn't keep count. I felt hands and teeth grab and pierce into me but that didn't stop me. My fierce hand with the knife still slashed through the air, sending bodies down with a thud. I continued to kill and slay like a bitch.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Antonio fall. His figure disappeared into a group of biters that surrounded him. When he fell, the biters hunched over and started their turn to attack him. Did he scream? Was he even moving? I couldn't tell. Everything I was witnessing was a blur. Nonetheless, I continued to fight with the adrenaline that pumped through my veins.

 _Antonio was dead._

 _"_ Gilbert!" Ludwig's voice rang through my ears, causing me to turn sharply.

He had stepped back from the biters and stood alone near the front doors of the building. He was alone. Rodriech wasn't with him, which I assumed was because he already fell into his grave.

 _Rodriech was dead._

There was something about him the flashed back memories to when he fell as the Holy Roman Empire. In that time, he was stepping away from the French soldiers, fearing for when he had to face Francis. The terrified look in his eyes then were identical to the stare he wore now.

I staggered over to mein bruder, grimacing at the injuries my body had already gained. I shoved any starving biters away from me as I went over to Ludwig. At my pushes, they took more notice on my fallen friends and put all their focus on attacking their already lifeless bodies.

I put both hands on his shoulders, forcing his piercing blue eyes to lock onto mine. As they did, I saw the horrors of all the things he'd seen reflect off of them.

"I-I can't do it... I can't do it..." He whimpered. Beneath my hold, I could feel his body shaking out of fear for the unknown. If we weren't about to die right now, I would've laughed and gave the whole 'you got balls, right? Use them!' talk, but I couldn't do that now.

"Hey... Listen, it's okay. You're okay. You can do this." I encouraged, putting my hands to his cheeks now to wipe away any tears that dripped down. "You've done so much in the past, you can do this. I will be with you through this whole thing, alright? Remember when you fought when you were just a young nation? You got through that, you'll get through this again." I grasped one of his hands in mine tightly, smiling up at him. "You.. You have someone waiting for you on the other side. You made a promise to them. You promised you would return from the war. Ludwig, he's waiting for you."

This conjured the smallest smile from him. Ah... Even now, I could make him smile. Despite all the years that passed, I still see him as my little brother dressed in that black coat of his and wearing that big black hat that always seemed too big to wear. The little boy who always grew flustered when he hung out with little Feliciano when they were children. The little boy who awoke from defeat as a new person, yet the same little brother I've known all my life.

Shut up, Gilbert. You're not one to get sentimental about this stuff! You don't want someone to find your corpse with ugly tear tracks, now do you?

Shaking that aside, I gently pulled Ludwig out back onto the field. Our movements acquired the attention of the biters around us once more as they continued their walk towards us.

"You ready, bruder?" I questioned, wrapping my hand around my pistol now. Got to make that 'click boom' ending, am I right?

Ludwig did the same with his, stepping forward as he regained his stoic exterior.

"I'm ready."

We fought side by side non stop. Biters fell to our feet at every swift movement of ours. A gun went off beside me as crunching bone rang on the other side. This sound wasn't new to me. I've heard it countless times in the past. This was nothing new.

I don't know why... but I'm not that scared to die. You'd think an old soul like me would be terrified with the thought of sudden death. But, I'm just not. The idea of possible condemnation to oblivion didn't frighten me nor did the thought of losing all memories.

Maybe it's because I've lived a pretty great life and have the tiniest need for a renewed story. Maybe it's because I miss things from the past and wish for the chance to see them again for the first time. Maybe it's because things have gone to shit and I don't want to deal with shit anymore.

As these thoughts swim through my mind, I feel my body begin to break. I don't see Ludwig beside me nor do I have the strength to even look over my shoulder for him. Bony hands grab my arms and pull me forward as teeth began to tear through my flesh.

 _Ludwig was dead._

I didn't scream. I didn't oppose. I simply fell into the death reeking embrace and smiled.

The shortness of my breath signaled I would be gone soon. The loss of feeling in my legs signaled I was losing all strength. I didn't even acknowledge that I was now lying on my side on the floor, staring at the rotting ankles around me.

I wonder if Elizaveta experienced a death like this...

I've long accepted that she died the week after she didn't come back. Yet, that fleeting hope of her miraculously being alive still inched in my mind. I hope she had a pleasant, non-painful death...

Elizaveta, I can't wait to see you again. Even if we come back to life as strangers, I know they'll always be a special place in my heart for you. You'd probably smack me across the head for my cheesiness.

 _"What? You speaking in such a tongue on your death? How amusing."_

Ha... Loser.

Hopefully, the world can work well without my awesomeness glorifying its soil.

 _Gilbert was dead._

...

[ Francis's P.O.V ]

 _"Papa, please understand. I wish to do this alone... I love you and dad both very very much. We will meet again in the future, just like how you said. We will. So, please, don't look at me like this is our last time. I love you. I must carry out this battle alone."_

That was the last conversation I held with Matthew. Before we left to where we desired to fight, he pulled Arthur and I aside to give that request. My dear Arthur, of course, was aghast at this request but soon complied alongside me when we saw the look in his eyes. I knew we had no say in how Matthew wished to... to die.

So, we parted ways from our last son and took our own path towards death.

"Francis... I'm sorry." Arthur's soft voice tugged at my ear before we entered the parlor. That's where we decided our graves should be.

"Why are you apologizing, dear? You have nothing to be sorry about." I assured, squeezing his hand to try and comfort him. We both were terrified of the idea of this being our judgement day. Yet, with both us feeling in such a way, I refused to show that freely.

Arthur shook his head, averting his gaze towards the floor beneath us. I noticed him cringe when the growls from the parlor room shook the atmosphere around us.

"I'm sorry for everything I've said and done in the past." He mumbled, his messy blonde hair falling over his eyes. "All our quarrels and pathetic fights. All those insults and tears. I never meant it, I never did. If I could take it back I would. I'm sorry. I-"

I cut him off from rambling and wrapped my arms around him. I could feel his breath hitch as he wrapped his arms around my torso. We buried our faces into each other for a brief moment before I let out a sigh. "It's okay... I know the words we threw at each other weren't true. We did have some rough times, but let's not ponder upon that now. Please, Arthur."

I did not want to spend my last moments alive thinking about how bad the past was. Sure, I had done some regrettable acts and said things I would rather have not said, but I didn't want to define my last breaths. Thankfully, Arthur was, for once, agreeing with me.

"You're right, you're right." He nodded, turning back to the parlor.

We both stared at it for a long while. So... This would be our burial ground. This is where we will fall. Of course, I always thought my death would be more beautiful and not as depressing, but there's nothing I could do about that now.

"Are you ready?" I looked over at my love, taking his hand in mine.

He held back, never taking his eyes off the door frame. The biters have taken notice of us.

"Ready."

The next events that happened were a blur. We charged in and began to shoot and stab the biters that came our way. With quick counting, I could predict there were about twenty. They all came at us both as we slaughtered those in our reach.

I could feel their hands touch me all over, occasionally digging their fingers into my skin. A quick flash of a memory of me getting a scratch on my palm and briefly feeling death's clutch on my heart. I was supposed to die then. Yet, here I am, dying once again. Although, this time I know Arthur wouldn't be able to save me.

Throughout all this, I could hear the yells of my beloved somewhere near. He was a whirlwind zipping through whilst bringing down the biters around. I glimpsed a look at his eyes and they were full of hatred and anger. I've seen Arthur angry countless times in the past but none held up to the amount of anger in his eyes now. All that anger from taking away our Alfred. All that anger for damning us into this.

I turned back to the biters near me, feeling teeth tear into my side. Grimacing, I turned over to shoot it in the head, sending it once more into its own grave. I couldn't even determine where all my injuries were on my body for I ached too much in so many places.

With a swift stab, I sent another biter back down. I turned to take on anymore but was greeted by the sight of numerous bodies on the floor. There were no more biters... At least for this room.

Arthur was on his knees beside me, panting in short breaths. Blood soaked both of our clothes as deep wounds seemed to tattoo our body like we were an artist's canvas. I collapsed beside him, unable to stand on my feet anymore.

I lied on my side as Arthur did the same, facing me. We merely lied there for who knows how long staring at each other's tired and crimson painted faces. The anger that once took over his gaze was now replaced with an exhausted one. The emerald hues that I so loved stared into my sapphire ones, simply staring.

"F-Francis..." My name came out of his lips in a cracking voice as he took in another hollow breath.

I nodded, trying to summon some words to say. "Yes, Arthur?" My words were choppy as well, much to my surprise. Energy was draining from my wounds and pooled around me on the floor.

"Hold m-my hand please..." Arthur's request sent a dagger through my heart. Shakily, with faltering strength, I reached over and took his hand in mine. Sticky liquid glued them together as our lives mixed together around us. Our lives always were entwined. Whether it was by battles or history or alliances or love. We were always somehow together. So, even now as death's breaths begin to grow in our lungs, we are together.

"Don't... Leave me..." I heard him beg weakly, tears now mixing in with his blood. I made an attempt to give his hand a squeeze in assurance. He gasped shortly before continuing what he was saying. "I-I need you... Promise me w-we'll be... together. Promise me, p-please... I want to kn-know this isn't the last.. last time..."

Would this be the last time? Will this be Arthur and I's last moment together? Will this be the last time I see him? Will our corpses be the remains of our relationship?

"P-Promise.." I breathed, feeling words start to betray me. "I will... find y-you.. and w-we will be together again... I promise." Even as I speak this, the weight of uncertainty presses down upon my heart. Would I find him? Would my objective and promise stay or would it disappear along with everything else?

Arthur gulped and gave short intakes of breath. I stared at his features, studying them as he studied mine. His annoying blonde hair that would leave a perfectionist twitching out of discomfort. His deep forest green eyes that held the beauty of the Earth. His elegant light skin that's as delicate and pure as precious porcelain. That frown of his that always caused his nose to crinkle up like a cranky child. His accent that was thick yet smooth to the ears. His rare yet overwhelming beautiful smile that causes my heart to melt. Oh... How I will miss him.

As I thought, tears began to stream down the sides of my face as well, causing Arthur to use his other hand to reach over to me. I felt his shaky fingers gingerly wipe away my tears as he rested his palm on my cheek. This touch... I don't ever want to forget this touch.

"I love you... Francis Bonnefoy." He whispered. I could hear the limited life coating his words. I attempted to nod but found myself unable to.

"J-Je t'aime... Arthur Kirkland." I responded, struggling to find enough breath to speak. My time was running short. Death had already put down its restricting weight on me to the point where I could no longer move.

The sound of our raspy and quick breaths were the only things audible in the room now. Our hands remained together, connected by our flowing blood and desire to stay together throughout death. I stared at him from where I lied, watching his eyes begin to droop. My own eyelids began to feel heavy, threatening to close forever.

Before I knew it, the most beautiful pair of green eyes closed beside me as the hand holding mine slackened.

Suddenly, the remaining air in my lungs seemed to disappear and I found myself closing my own eyes. The last sight I saw was the relaxed face of my beloved. He wasn't in pain anymore nor did he seem troubled. He simply looked calm.

That satisfied me. As long as he was alright now...

Arthur, Matthew, Alfred... I promise. I promise I will find you all. We will be a family again. We won't be separated. I may not remember anything and you all will have forgotten our bond, but some way I promise I will bring us together.

My dearest, Arthur. I will miss you. My heart will love you and only you till the end of time and past death. I love you. My love... Until we meet again...

 _Arthur was dead._

 _Francis was dead._

 _..._

[ Matthew's P.O.V ]

Being alone was prominent when it came to my last battle.

I wanted to fight my war alone. That's how it always felt like anyways. Everyone forgot about my roles in the wars I was involved in. So, basically, fighting my very last war alone wasn't that new.

Loneliness is what I feel best. It's something that has never left me since the day I was born as a nation. I was always secluded and forgotten. Of course, it's a trait I've learnt to deal with. It doesn't hurt me anymore since I've grown accustom to it like its normal.

My last battle will sum up my life; alone.

I'm thankful Papa allowed me to go off on my own. I'm saddened that I couldn't spend my last moments with my family, but I know that's not what I should do. I had to do this. I just had to.

When we departed ways, I turned and walked to the back area of the second floor. There were no biters there. I couldn't enter the battlefield just yet. I needed to take a moment to do something, even though I had plenty of those before dawn.

Quickly, I went into Ludwig's study, grabbing a couple blank sheets of paper. Humans were bound to find this place throughout time. I had to write something to them. I know, if we come back, none of us will remember anything about our history or what happened. I want to know our deaths won't be silent and unacknowledged. I want to know it will be recognized. So, I am writing a letter for whoever may pick this up and for the new world to know.

I put the letter on the desk, folding it in half. On top of it I wrote: To The New World.

When I stepped outside of the study, I felt a sudden twinge in my heart. Oh God. This is it. I'm going to die. This is my death. Down these steps is where I will die. I won't exist anymore. It didn't catch up to me until now as I was literally steps away from my grave.

Matthew, be strong. Be strong. Be like... Alfred wouldn't be crying. Alfred wouldn't shy away from all of this. Alfred wouldn't cower in fear of the unknown. Alfred would... he wouldn't do this.

Brother, even now I look up to you. Quite literally, if I must put it. How silly.

Taking a deep breath, I give myself a reassuring nod before turning back to the battlegrounds. Gunshots were heard but soon faltered into the collection of growls as I made it down the steps. They were dying out there. Some I gathered were already dead. I needed to join them.

I went towards the kitchen, catching sight of a trail of blood from the corner of the entry way. Biters were already slain here. By whom, I would find that out very quick.

Toris was slumped in the corner of the room, barely grabbing onto one of the table legs. His head lulled towards his chest as his body was covered in bruises and cuts. There were no more biters. I observed his chest to see it was no longer rising or falling.

 _Toris was dead._

There was a pile of biters slaughtered near the sink, their blood splattered all over the fridge and counter top. A black boot stuck out from beneath the pile, gaining my attention. Kicking some of the biters off of whoever owned the black boot, my face paled at the sight of the person below.

Ivan was sprawled on his back, his hands just barely covering his face. Beneath his hands was a bloody mess (and not in a British slang type of way). His only good eye now met the fate of his other. It looked as if someone gauged it out with such torturous carelessness. There was a chunk missing from his face that would imply it was bitten off from a biter or multiple. However, they were all dead on top of him which I concluded that he managed to kill them all before he died. Ha. He always was very strong... I admired that.

 _Ivan was dead._

I left the room, unable to bare the sight and stench that made my eyes water.

It looked like a majority of the biters had already been taken care of. Oh no, there had to be some still here to kill me.

The next place I ventured to was the back area. It was said to be the backyard by Feliciano when we first got here but Ludwig told us it was simply a back entrance if the front was inaccessible. The door was ajar so I guessed someone would have to be out there- living or dead.

Stepping outside, I was instantly greeted by a single biter which stooped over a pile of fresh carnage. At my footsteps, it turned and suddenly lunged itself at me. Its quickness caught me off guard, knocking me onto my back. I whipped out my knife and pierced it into its skull as I felt its bony fingers make a rough incision into my side.

"Shit.." I cursed as I pushed the now dead weight off my body. Well, that's one achievement I've done so far.

Clutching my side, I pushed myself off of the ground and got a better look at the carnage before me. The bodies were difficult to identify due to their faces being beaten and destroyed beyond belief. However, from what I did recognize was their disembodied hands that were set a bit away from the meat pile. In one hand was a blue and white ribbon soaked in blood. In the other was an iron cross bathed in maroon. This... This was Mathias and Berwald.

 _Mathias was dead._

 _Berwald was dead._

Reeling from the sight, I stumbled back inside. Oh God... Who else has already died? Who else do I have to witness?

A limp formed at every step I took that put pressure to the wound in my side. It was a pretty deep wound but that wasn't a problem. In any case, it was probably a good thing. It cut my life down so now my time truly was running out.

The parlor was where I traveled to next.

This was the room where I found the most biters by far. However, they had already been slain. Their bodies were piled atop each other and scattered everywhere in the room. I'm surprised anyone could've defeated this much. When my eyes trailed down to the middle of the room, I felt my whole being break.

"P-Papa?" I mumbled, staring down at my two fathers.

Papa and Arthur laid on the floor, both on their sides. They were holding hands, while Arthur had his other one gently placed against Papa's cheek. Blood... There was so much blood... It dampened their hair; it soaked their clothes. Their bodies were broken as well just like the others I came across. Both of their eyes were closed and their faces looked as peaceful as ever. My family... they were dead. All of them. Dead.

Tears streamed down my face as strained cries broke free. I dropped to my knees, kneeling in front of the bodies of my family.

"Wh-Why does it have to be this way?! Why?!" I screamed, my shoulders trembling as I sobbed.

Why did we have to die?! Why did this have to be the only way?! Why did we have to be damned in such a situation?! Why does the world hate us so much? Haven't we already bared and experienced enough pain and loss? Was our years and years of wars and battles and hurt not enough?! Even after all that, all we've carried on for everyone and this planet in general, our last objective is to sacrifice ourselves whilst losing all we have.

Terror blossomed in my chest, its thorns piercing into my heart and limbs. I can't do this. I can't do this. I'm scared to die. I'm so terrified.

I shouldn't be scared. I shouldn't be a coward. I always am a coward, aren't I? I shy out when it comes to speaking up for myself. I allow others to step all over me. I tolerate any merde thrown at me even if it isn't my own. How funny. On my very last battle, I still succumbed to my cowardliness and hesitate on fighting.

Clenching my fists, I bowed my head in anger at everything spinning around my mind. No... No, I don't want to die cowardly. I will not die in such a way. Alfred wouldn't want that. Papa wouldn't want that. Arthur wouldn't want that.

I leaned down and gently put a kiss on Papa and Arthur's head.

"Please be proud of me... Please don't forget about me if we all wake." I knew that last one would be impossible to come true since no matter what they'll forget about me. I will even forget about them. Dying would erase all our history. However, my hopes mostly relied on the first one. Would they be proud of me?

I got back to my feet, sudden determination flooding through my veins. This is my last fight. My last battle. Everyone has died except for me. I shouldn't see this as a sign of weakness. Right now, I am what's keeping everything from becoming well again. My cowardliness will not get in the way anymore.

Sprinting now, I made my way over to the front entrance. That's where all the biters were. I could hear their growls even before I exited the building.

They were all grouped over four bodies; bodies I decided it was best to not examine. I had my assumptions on who they may be already but I had enough sights I wished to forget.

"H-Hey! You... dickheads!" I shouted, gaining the attention of all the remaining biters. They turned from the three bodies on the floor and blinked their dull eyes at me. I could see the flicker behind them, almost in unison, that started their staggering towards me.

 _Bang_

I began firing my gun relentlessly at them all, my accuracy not being at its best. But I didn't care. I wasn't going to back down. I wasn't going to be weak. Not this time. No.

My brother was dead. My fathers were dead. My friends were dead. I have to be strong and make this last fight mean something. I can't hide behind my brother's shadow anymore. I won't allow myself to do that, not now.

It didn't take long for them to grab me by my outstretched arms as I shot at them. They smacked the gun out of my hands as it was there turn to attack me.

My own screams broke through the air as I felt their teeth tear through me. Where exactly, I'm not sure. All I knew was that everything hurt now. Excruciating pain coursed through my body in all directions.

Struggling through their take and slipperiness of my own blood, I regained a grip on my knife and tried all I could to take more down. I have to do this. I can't give up.

One went down. Another followed. A few more to the head. I stabbed through the air in an attempt to take down another one but fell short when an invisible force made me let go of my knife. Before I knew it, I was falling backwards as the wave of biters suddenly crashed over me.

They feasted freely now for I had no strength left to fight any longer. I cried as I felt myself slowly break underneath their multiple hands. I cringed as I heard their monstrous growls and snarls as they attacked me. I weakly stared up at them, feeling my own blood drip from their mouth to my face.

Was this enough? Was I enough? Did I do everything to their satisfaction? I wonder if Papa would be proud...

A tiredness and numbness began to wipe over me as a large weight was set upon my chest. My eyes dulled slightly as I stared at the smallest break in the sky I could gather from the undead heads around me. The sky was blue. Purely blue. No clouds, just blue. It was beautiful.

Well. This is it, eh? Ha... Who knew I'd be the last one here. Who would've thought that.

Alfred... Papa... Arthur... I hope to see you again if the world is kind enough to give us that. I hope we become a family once again. You all were the best family a boy could wish for. We did bicker and argue, but in the end.. I felt the most love I ever felt in the world. I hope I get to feel loved like that again.

Until then...

I gave a short gasp as the last bit of air escaped my lungs and I was soon drifting away from consciousness. The last thing I saw was a single bird flying over my head. It gave a short tweet before everything went black.

That was the world's way of letting me know: "You did well."

I'm satisfied.

 _Matthew was dead._

...

 _Dear Reader or to the one who has picked up my letter,_

 _I am, or was, the personification of Canada. By the time you read this, I, and all my fellow personified nations, will be dead. Which means that the world will be gradually getting better. I have no way of knowing who will pick this up or when they will, but I do know that whenever it is read it will be when the world is becoming anew. However, the purpose of this letter was not to let you know what's happening now. It is to inform you of what happened then; what happened to us._

 _We, as in the nations of this world, gave our lives to keep this world alive. We were the personifications of the land masses and nations that used to exist before the apocalypse made everything collapse. We lived throughout history and kept order and fought to keep our nations intact. We died so the world could be reborn and new life could form with new opportunities. I am writing this so our work and actions aren't done without notice. To be more specific, I wish that the actions of my friends and family don't go without any notice._

 _Please, if possible, restore our borders. Restore the fallen borders that were made in the old world. Germany, Austria, Prussia, North Italy, South Italy, Spain, Russia, Lithuania, The United States of America, France, Britain, Canada, etc.- all those past countries. Please, restore us. When the new world is born, please bring back the structure of the old world. I have no idea what that will do to us or to anyone, but I do know it'll keep our legacy. Whether we come back or not, that would at least leave something of us to carry out our acts._

 _That is all I ask._

 _If you fulfill my request, I am forever thankful. It will rest my soul and spirit in wherever I depart to after death._

 _I wish the new world only the best._

 _Sincerely,_  
 _Matthew Williams, Canada._

 **A/N:**

 **THIS IS NOT THE END- I STILL HAVE ONE MORE CHAPTER (the epilogue)**

 **Yikes. This hurt to write.**

 **Anyways, I'm saving my sentimental farewell author's note for this story in the next chapter since that's really the end of this fic. I'm actually really sad this is ending. I've been writing this for a little over a year haha.**

 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love reading them; they help me keep writing.**


	29. Goodbye, Until Tomorrow epilogue

Roughly around a hundred years was how long it took for everything to settle. A hundred years. At least whole century after the nations sacrificed themselves for everyone. Once the last one of them fell upon the broken world, mending light and ideas began to flourish.

Humans grouped together and began to experiment and test upon the biters, being ever so careful as to not contribute to its deadly spread. It took years and countless lives to narrow it down to a conclusion as to what caused this and what could be done. There was a medicine made that would cure any infected and protect anyone from getting infected. Soon, the new world's first generation would have to do this mandatory vaccination to prevent any possible offspring or future generation from obtaining the epidemic.

Once they've successfully found a way to get rid of all these biters, all the remaining humans gathered together and roamed about through the world, killing the biters and injecting their cure into those infected. It took decades to complete all of this thoroughly. However, when ever last one was taken care of, that's when they knew they could start rebuilding the world.

A young woman discovered the Berlin meeting place. It was in shambles and no one was interested in investigating such a chilling place. She, being used to exploring such sights, ventured in to see what secrets it might hold.

She took note of a few objects that she passed by, even taking it with her for some artifacts and mementos from the apocalypse. Such objects included: a white and blue ribbon, spectacles, an iron cross, scraps of uniforms, what appeared to be bunny slippers, and even a toy egg. There were lots of other objects but they were mainly normal household stuff like plates and utensils and chairs.

As she roamed, the woman discovered non-biter bodies. By now, they had all been decomposed and mere skeletons with flies buzzing about around them. It still gave off a reeling odor, but she didn't mind. She continued to observe.

Five bodies side by side one another out in the front.

Two in the kitchen, one underneath a table and another by the sink.

Two in the parlor, both to appear to have been holding hands at the time of their death.

A pile of bones, not assembled together, towards the back way. The number of people was unclear.

One body up in on the top floor in an old meeting room, set near the corner.

Another in the basement with a slain biter beside it.

The woman walked about, writing in her journal about her observations and theories. She predicted that whoever was here had been here for a long time. The building seemed to be used a lot during the apocalypse and by multiple people. She concluded that the inhabitants were killed when a herd of biters came trampling in- evident by the broken windows and the doors that hung off its hinges.

She stopped writing when she came upon a study room. It wasn't in shambles like the rest of the place so there had to be something worth looking into in there. Slowly, she entered the room, scanning about for anything useful or informative. It was just a simply study with shelves of books one would see in a library. However, it wasn't the books that caught her eye. It was a folded piece of paper on the desk against the wall. Going over, she read the letter. The letter Matthew wrote before heading out to his demise.

That letter would be the letter that brought them all back.

...

The letter was read and brought to many different people. It was read by historians, kids, past teachers, past government officials, and just about anyone. The contents were shared throughout the world and discussed by all who lived to inhabit it. Information about the personified nations were known throughout history. People knew their own country had one immortal representative that lived since the birth of their nation. They weren't spoken about a lot, oddly enough, but they were known.

The leaders of the new world, who took the stand to fix everything that happened, read the letter and decided to carry out Matthew William's request. The borders of the old world and countries would be restored. The old countries will revive and carry out their legacy. Whether the personifications would be revived as well was still a mystery at the time.

It took another good set of decades to rebuild the borders and structure. Of course, there were fall outs and fights as some would of predicted, but all were settled amicably in the end when the letter was brought up. No one knew why, but everyone had the strong desire to please their past nations. Maybe it was because they knew how much they fought for them. Maybe it was because they realized how much they took and endured for their people. Whatever the case was, everyone had their own insight to their desire to help.

One by one, nations began to come back. Canada was first, then followed by Germany, then Russia, then China, then England, then France, and so on and so forth. Every nation came back and every one lived in their desired or home country from the old world. When the countries were brought back, the personifications didn't come back... immediately.

...

"Woah! This is so cool!"

A boy, physically 12 years old, dashed down a busy street in New York, pushing past a few pedestrians while he was at it. Bright sapphire eyes lit up in awe as he ran up to a construction worker near the border of his country, The United States of America.

"You guys finally have it up?! Can I see?!" the boy exclaimed joyfully, practically jumping up and down as he looked up at the worker. His unique golden curl bounced along with him, causing the worker to let out a little laugh.

"Of course, Mr. Jones. I would be surprised if you didn't want to see it. Besides, a boy from the other country came over here to view it, too."

Alfred F. Jones tilted his head to the side in confusion. Another boy? So, there was another country beyond the fence? Yes, he did know Canada was beyond there but he often forgotten about it since he usually was too busy focusing on his own flourishing nation.

After the man said that, Alfred caught a glimpse of a boy coming across the border. This boy looked almost exactly like him and had a similar curl, except it hung over his eyes in a loopy way.

"You! Hey you!" Alfred yelled over to the boy, causing him to jump in surprise. The American ran over to him with the biggest smile on his face. "I've never seen you around! Are you a nation too?! Are you Canada?! What's your name?! I'm America! Call me Alfred though! Alfred F. Jones! Did you come to see the new border too?!"

Questions spewed from the others mouth so fast the Canadian boy couldn't keep up. His purple irises shifted up and down Alfred, taking in the newcomer. He knew about his loud neighbor and heard many stories about him, but not once did they ever meet. Shifting where he stood, the new boy quietly spoke up.

"M-My name is Matthew." The Canadian responded, surprisingly ceasing the other's excessive chatter. "Matthew Williams. Yes, I'm Canada. It's a pleasure to meet you, Alfred."

The two smiled brightly at one another, both excited to have met another nation. Being where they were, there weren't many nations around to socialize with. It was a joy for the both of them to meet in their own land.

"It's nice to meet you too!" Alfred laughed loudly, causing the other to jump a bit. Oh the contrast between the two. "Hey! Let's be best friends!"

Matthew blinked in surprise at the sudden statement, really trying to adjust to the other's booming personality. No wonder America was such a loud country. They had an energy filled representative that seemed to be non-stop.

"B-Best friends?" He stuttered out with a wavering smile. "Okay. I would love to be-"

"Wait!"

Alfred raised a finger in the air, furrowing his brows in sudden thought. He stood there for a long moment as Matthew stared at him in concern. Alfred quickly lowered his finger so it pointed directly at the boy in front of him.

"We're going to be brothers!"

Matthew gave a short gasp. "H-Huh?"

"Brothers!" Alfred repeated but at an even louder volume. "We live so close and we share a border so why not! Plus we look alike! What are the odds?!"

So, here the two were: the enthusiastic American and introverted Canadian. They were such polar opposites it was a wonder that they appeared to look very similar. However, it was probably that alone that got the two to come together.

It was as if something was pulling at them and saying 'hey, you two are brothers, remember?' even though no memory of the other recalled back to their mind. But that nonexistent whisper brought both of them to agree on becoming each other's brothers.

"I would love to be your brother."

...

Across the seas, the Swedish government were getting ready for a very important meeting. They had set up a meet up for the Scandenavian nations' representatives. Sweden was chosen for the location because it was the most developed country amongst the five.

"The personifications for Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Iceland will be arriving in a few minutes." A woman came up to tell a tall, blond haired man.

The man nodded silently and returned back to looking outside his window. His glasses gave off a bright glare from the sun, shielding the expressions that coated his gaze. Truthfully, he was quite nervous to meet the other nations. Social interaction was not his strong point- which was something he figured out quite quickly when he first became who he was.

Seeing a few cars drive up, Berwald, the representative of Sweden, drew back from the window and went over the meeting room door. Politeness and manners were some of the few socializing components he wasn't ignorant about. So, he would stand and greet them all with a nod and maybe shake of his hand.

Suddenly, muffled voices could be heard booming up the steps. It was made by a single person which signified someone of the four arrivals were quite loud and obnoxious. Great.

"Welcome." Berwald muttered as the first representative walked in.

The man was close to Berwald's height. He had spiky blond hair that took up a majority of his height, along with a tiny black hat set where his hair parted. Deep blue eyes glistened and complimented the flash in his huge smile. Black coat rustling as he walked, the man gave an excited wave towards Berwald.

"Hello! I'm Denmark, or Mathias!" He greeted, his loud tone signifying he was the noisy fellow outside.

After him came another man, much shorter than the other. He had light blond hair that partially fell over his eyes on the right side. His purple eyes were dazed and seemingly expressionless, along with the rest of his features. An iron cross pulled back his hair on the left side, leaving his vision clear. He gave a short nod of recognition to Berwald.

"I'm Norway, or Lukas." The Norwegian other stated simply before he followed the upbeat Dane towards the meeting table.

The next person to follow was a younger male, obviously nervous about being here. He had violet eyes just like Lukas, but his hair seemed drained of all color. Silver hair fell just above his eyes and hugged the sides of his cheeks. When passing Berwald, the man merely muttered his identification, not doing anything more than that.

"Iceland, or Emil."

Berwald looked over at the newcomers, observing how they were. They were quite an odd bunch- especially the Danish man. It seemed strange that they were the ones he was going to be working with when it came to governing their nations together.

"Oh! Am I the last one? How silly of me, I'm so sorry!"

Berwald's attention was brought back to the door as one last nation came trotting into the room.

He had brilliant purple eyes that seemed brighter than the other two that had previously come in. A light blush was smeared across his cheeks as he caught his breath from running up the steps. Beige hair was gently brushed away from his forehead as the small man looked up at Berwald.

"I'm Finland! You can call me Tino though." The Finnish man greeted. He stuck out his hand to shake Berwald's.

Berwald hesitantly took the hand in his own, surprised to see how small and feminine they were compared to his.

"Sweden, or Berwald." He mumbled, hearing a light laugh from the other.

With that, Tino walked over to the table where everyone had taken a seat.

It was quite an odd group. Berwald noticed the distinct qualities of each person, causing him to wonder how they'll all get along. Mathias was blabbering nonstop to Lukas, who was desperately trying to keep himself from strangling the other. Emil sat idly by, merely staring at the two as if it was a normal sight to see (despite the fact that they were just meeting now). Tino sat across from Mathias, laughing and putting in his own positive input on whatever was being discussed.

Berwald let out a short chuckle at that and turned to shut the door. However, he was stopped suddenly when a tiny hand waved in front of him.

"Hey! Wait! Don't close the door yet! I'm supposed to be in here too, you know!"

Looking down, Berwald found himself staring at a child. Physically, he had to be no more than 10 years old. He, like a majority of them, had short blond hair. His eyes were a deep blue that resembled much of the 7 seas. What caught Berwald's attention the most on his facial features were the bushy eyebrows that seemed far too big to be on a kid.

"I thought it was only us five." Berwald said, his voice monotonous.

A pair of footsteps came pattering towards the two as Tino came over to grab the boy's hand.

"I'm so sorry this is sudden." The Finnish man said with a sheepish smile. "This is Sealand, or Peter. He's a tiny island I found between our coasts. He's not a big country nor one people often hear about, but he's with me. I over see everything for him."

Peter nodded energetically and jabbed his thumb at his chest. "Yeah! So don't be leaving me out!"

Berwald cracked the smallest smile for the boy and gave a short nod. Ah, how sweet. He found himself immediately liking the new, small nation and the Finnish male. Just something about them made him joyful inside- which was a feeling he wouldn't use so lightly.

He watched Tino lead the boy over to the table, having him sit between Mathias and Lukas. That solved the two's shaky air for the Dane started rambling on to Peter about who knows what.

With a solemn sigh, Berwald walked over to the table to greet his new Scandinavian family.

 _Oh... What an interesting time this will be._

 _..._

"On the way back, can we get some fettucine alfredo?"

"No."

"What about some Rigatoni con la Pagliata?"

"No."

"Carbonara?"

"No."

"Come on, fratello! I'm hungry! Please, can we have some pasta?"

"If you shut the hell up then maybe we can."

Two Italian men walked side by side through the streets of Germany. They weren't on a business trip nor were they there to extend their foreign relations. To simply put it, they wanted to have a vacation day to stroll around and scope out the nice eateries in the countries nearby.

The two men were Feliciano and Lovino Vargas; country representatives for North and South Italy. As they walked, the differences between the two brothers showed clear as day. Feliciano grinned and practically skipped as they made their way down the busy streets. He giggled and shot winks at pretty women who walked by. Lovino was the complete opposite. He frowned as he walked and scoffed whenever his brother made a bubbly remark. If asked, he would say he was only with his brother because he was dragged along but, truthfully, he was the one who proposed this whole day trip.

"Lovi, look!" Feliciano exclaimed, pointing over a two men arguing. "I wonder what's going on."

Down the street, two men stood arguing over what appeared to be a sack of food. It was between a tall, well built blond man and a brown haired man. The brunet appeared to be begging the other to take whatever food was in the bag but the blond didn't seem to want to compromise. Lovino, curiosity eating away at his mind, took his brother's hand and dragged him over to the two bickering men.

"Please, these are the only ones I have!" The tan skinned man exclaimed. "I'm sorry it's not the amount you asked for but-"

"Sorry, you fell short of what I asked. I can't buy them from you." The pale other said, furrowing his brows to show he meant business.

The Spaniard opened the bag and took out a perfectly ripe tomato and held it up to the German. "Please... You know how my economy is very poor right now. Trading and exporting goods are what I'm relying on right now. Please, just this once. I promise, I'll have more next time! We just had a problem with thieves and our supplies were low and-"

A hand was held up in front of him as the German sighed. "I'm sorry, but I simply can't... Come bac-"

"Hey!"

The two men's eyes widened as a third voice rang in their ears. Lovino stomped over to the two with an obviously pissed expression. He went over and snatched the bag of tomatoes from the Spaniard and shoved them roughly into the German's chest.

"What the hell are you doing turning down a perfect batch of tomatoes?!" He demanded, going on his toes a bit to try and seem intimidating to the blond. "Do you know how hard it is to harvest such perfect tomatoes like this guy's? Doesn't matter if it isn't the amount you paid for. You wanted tomatoes so take your fucking tomatoes and pay him."

Shocked silence settled between the four of them. Feliciano stared wide eyed at his brother and back at the two men to see what would happen. The German narrowed his eyes a bit at Lovino, which earned him a glare in return. It was obvious the Italian meant business, even though it wasn't his business in the first place. Usually, he wouldn't give in to such things but, at the moment, he honestly didn't care.

"Fine." The German mumbled, taking out the envelope of payment he had made out to the Spaniard. He tossed it to the brunet. The Spaniard's brilliant green eyes lit up with joy and caught it with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"G-Gracias!" the Spaniard said to the German. He turned over to Lovino with an even bigger smile. "Muchas gracias. I owe you one."

The two stared at each other for a second, getting their first observations on one another. Lovino gave a strange stare at Antonio's cheerful face, not understanding how someone could be that fucking happy. Antonio grinned at the Italian, truly grateful to have met him right then and there. Deep down, they both had a special liking to the other they couldn't understand.

Lovino shook his head, crossing his arms as he did so. "Hmph. Don't thank me. I wasn't doing this for you. I just couldn't bare to see such perfect tomatoes go to waste."

That lie wasn't taken by anyone. The Spaniard held out a hand to the Italian, "I'm Spain, but you can call me Antonio. You're South Italy, si?"

"Yeah, that's right. You better know my name." He gave a prideful smirk and shook the other's hand. "The name's Lovino-" He motioned to Feliciano who was busy staring at the German, "-this is my pathetic brother, Feliciano. He's North Italy."

Antonio turned to greet Feliciano but stopped to see him gasp in surprise.

"You're Germany!" Feliciano exclaimed, his eyes shining in admiration. "Your country has such a strong economy!"

The German looked at the smaller nation with a peculiar stare but couldn't help but crack a small smile at the other's enthusiasm. It wasn't common for someone to speak to him in such a manner since the usual responses he got were stoic and formal. Excluding his brother in the East who was upbeat 24/7, but mostly bothered their Austrian and Hungarian neighbors.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you. Call me Ludwig, since we're all nations here." Ludwig greeted. He was about to give a polite nod but suddenly felt the Italian in front of him take his hand in his, shaking it vigorously.

"Wow! I can't believe we're meeting! My boss told me many magnificent things about you! Of course, we were supposed to formally meet later on at a dinner or meeting, but looks like we're meeting now! Your country is so beautiful! Your people are so big and scary, but that's fine! Nearly every place is like that! You're much taller than what I would imagine!"

His excited chatter kept going on and on, leaving Ludwig speechless as he merely stared at the other. It was odd. It was as if this was normal; that is, hearing this same person talk a million words in a second. That didn't make any sense though since they literally just met right now. Yet, the lingering sensation in the German's heart just kept whispering to him saying 'you know him'.

However, Ludwig shook that thought away. Maybe he had a dream similar to this. Nonetheless, he couldn't deny the warmth that blossomed in his chest as he listened to Feliciano speak. Something told him that they were going to get along just right.

...

 _"We have just landed in the United States of America. Thank you for flying with us."_

A British airlines plane came to halt at an American airport. It's abrupt stop shook the Englishman awake, causing him to fumble for his carry ons.

Arthur Kirkland, country personification of Great Britain, was flying over to the states today to check up on Alfred. When the countries were brought back, his boss instructed that he oversee and aid America in flourishing back into the country they were before. Seeing how they were one of the youngest countries in the old world, they would need a lot of help getting back on their feet.

Alfred and Arthur met before so this was hardly a first meeting. The young nation was brought over to England and they formed an alliance- Arthur would help Alfred grow as a nation, but in return they have a strong relation and help each other in the future for any possible wars and conflicts that may erupt. However, the last time they saw each other was a while back and Arthur thought it would be nice to pay a little visit to the American.

Once off the plane, the Brit quickly snaked his way through clusters of people, trying to get to the exit as soon as possible. He hated American transportation because it was so crowded and everyone was so noisy. No one had any knowledge of personal space or common sense.

"Excuse me-"

Arthur just barely heard someone in front of him before he felt his body collide with someone else's. He tripped and fell face flat down on the hard floor near one of the terminals.

"Watch where you're going, you imbecile!" He exclaimed heatedly. He snapped his head up to glare at the person who ran into him. Beautiful golden locks met his eyes as a piercing blue gaze stared down upon him.

A hand reached out to him, "I'm terrible sorry, sir. I didn't mean to bump in to you. You see, I'm trying to hurry so I can meet this-"

Arthur scoffed, slapping the hand away from him. "I don't bloody care. I'm in a rush too, so move along."

With that, he pushed past the foreign stranger and continued to make his way down the busy terminals. So far, everything about America was ticking him off. Especially the people who lived here. America overall pissed him off and the only thing about it that wasn't was Alfred.

...

Despite all the countries coming back to where they were in the old world, not all of them were exactly how they were in the past.

"Excuse me, Mr. Braginsky, can I use your telephone for a quick call? I'm so sorry to bother."

A brown haired nation stood at the door of a study in which a tall, Russian man stood. The Russian turned to the other and gave a short nod of approval.

"Of course, little Toris. I share home with you so my stuff is your stuff."

Toris, representative of Lithuania, beamed up at the other and gave a quick thanks. Ivan, representative of Russia, retired back to the window he was peering out of.

Outside were countless people from countless nations. Currently, they all were trying to regroup and mend the problems in each nation that resulted from the apocalypse. Some places were better off environmental wise and economy wise. Those who were on the lower scale depended on stronger nations to help them flourish and grow better as a country.

Russia was the strongest nation in West Europe and Asia. Ivan kept in touch with all his fellow nations who depended on him and did all he could to make them better. He generously gave money to those in debt. He provided an abundance of land from his country to be used for other nations' purposes. He helped with foreign relations and extending the alliances with the countries who came to him.

Throughout the land, Russia was said to be one of the nicest and friendliest country in the world.

Ivan had plenty of friends, some of those including: Yao from China, Kiku from Japan, Toris, Eduard, and Raivis from the Baltic States, Natalya from Belarus, Katyusha from Ukraine, and many others. They all came to him when they had a problem and he helped them happily.

It was the nation he was born as and, in the past, the nation he always wanted to be.

"Ah, my friends." Ivan beamed out the window. "You are in much of the great hands. I will keep you well."

...

Back in the States, Arthur trudged through the streets to find out where Alfred was. A government worker who greeted him at the airport told him the nation was off running near the border of Canada. Typical of a young nation to do.

As he walked, Arthur studied the American life about him. Everyone was so talkative with one another and he frequently saw random people strike conversation despite not knowing a single thing about the other. It was all so bizarre in his mind but that was expected since this was, indeed, a whole different country on a whole different continent.

Reaching the border, a young boy with distinctive spectacles came into view. He was seen talking with another boy who looked nearly identical to him but had just the slightest change in the hair to say otherwise.

"Oi! Alfred!" Arthur called out, waving his hand so the boy could see him. Alfred turned from where he was, a bright smile plastering onto his face.

"Arthur!" Alfred shouted, running full speed towards the Brit. Arthur felt the air in his lungs disappear as he felt the American ram into him and pull him into a surprisingly strong hug. He chuckled awkwardly, patting the other on the head.

"It's nice to see you again, lad." Arthur greeted with a smile. "I thought I'd stop by and visit you for a couple of days."

At that, Alfred let out a gasp started jumping up and down. He took Arthur's hands and immediately started to spin around with him whilst laughing his head off.

"Yay! Yay! It'll be a sleepover! We can have a little party too! Yay!"

Oh, even Alfred was enthusiastic and loud like the rest of this place. However, his version of overexcitement was tolerable considering it was Alfred.

As they spun, Arthur couldn't help but take notice of the other boy a few feet away from him. This boy seemed extremely calm compared to Alfred and quite the opposite when it came to personality. He merely stared at the two as he rubbed his arms awkwardly in silence.

"Alfred, who's this?" Arthur stopped their spinning and gave a nod towards the other boy.

Alfred chuckled and ran over to the boy, dragging him over to Arthur.

"This is Matthew! He's the country that lives right above me; Canada!" He swung an arm over Matthew, causing the Canadian to flinch uncomfortably.

Well that something new the Brit hadn't heard about. He knew there was a country above the States but he had never met them till now. It surprised him a bit to see it was another young nation.

Matthew smiled up at Arthur, opening his mouth to greet him. However, his words were taken aback when his violet hues shifted over to a man walking over to them.

"Francis!"

The Canadian ran away from Alfred and Arthur and hopped up into the arms of a man coming over to them. Alfred stared at the man curiosity, never seeing him before in his life. Arthur, on the other hand, felt his cheeks redden with disgust.

"You!" He exclaimed, pointing a finger at the man. "You're the one who doesn't know where to look when he walks! You bloody knocked me to the ground!"

The man, in the middle of a hug with Matthew, raised a brow at the Brit. Tucking some of his silky hair behind his ear, the man let out a gentle laugh. The laugh alone made Arthur's blood boil. He was French; part of the annoying country in the South that always acted so prestigious and prideful about who they were.

"Like I said, I'm sorry to have bothered you, but, as I was going to say back there, I was in a rush as well to meet up with my darling Matthew." The Frenchman explained, causing Matthew to giggle happily. "You see, I take care of him and his country at the moment. I'm France, or Francis Bonnefoy." He extended his hand for the other to shake.

Arthur scoffed, folding his arms instead of acknowledging the hand shake. "France, huh? Oh, so you're the representative of those blokes who sell smelly dairy products and brag too much for their own good."

Francis's eyes widened, surprised to see how rude the other could be. "Eh? So, does that make you Britain, the foul mouthed nation with no heart at all?"

"The name is Arthur Kirkland! How dare you defile me. I'll have you know my country is far better than yours."

"Ah, but not when it comes to physical attractiveness. Especially when it comes to facial hair."

"Are you insulting my eyebrows, you wank?!"

"They're doing that all by themselves; I simply added on to its hideousness."

Insults began to throw over and over at about the two men. Alfred and Matthew took a step back from them, surprised to see their two guardians hate each other so much and in such a small time. It was as if they both were two lions fighting over who would be the king of the land.

After about ten minutes, Alfred let out a sigh. Quickly, he jumped right in between Arthur and Francis and waved his hands high in the air and stared up at Francis.

"Hello! I'm Alfred!" He exclaimed, causing the two men to shut up. "I'm America!"

Francis, immediately cutting off any acknowledgment to the Brit, leaned down and patted the American on the head. "Aw, you're so adorable, petite garçon. You look so much like Matthew; you two could be brothers."

Matthew ran up, smiling alongside Alfred. "W-We are!"

That caught both of them at a surprise. Yes, it was expected that they could be brothers considering their share the continent and border each other, then again they look very similar too, but the fact being stated took them by surprise. If Alfred and Matthew were brothers... did that mean...

"Does this mean this frog and I have to have a relation as well?!" Arthur said as he shot a finger over at Francis.

Francis stared at the Brit in shock then back down at the two brothers. This was quite a surprise... He made the surprise visit to his dear Matthew and ended up being dragged into a family with an enthusiastic American and stick-up-the-butt Briton. How the hell was this going to work out?

"Yeah!" Alfred shouted gleefully. "You two could be, like, our dads!"

"What?!" The two men yelled in unison.

Alfred and Matthew broke down laughing, seeing their guardians look so shocked. It truly amused them just like how anything could amuse little boys if seen in such a light. However, something else grew within the two boys when they stated this. They not only found it hilarious but they also found it comforting. The four of them as a family... It sounded about right to them.

"Us? A family?!" Arthur exclaimed, truly opposed to the idea since he couldn't even bring himself to accept Francis as a mere friend.

Francis, on the other hand, suddenly fell silent at this. He stared at Alfred and Matthew, seeing how joyful they appeared together and pleased at the thought of the two of them as their fathers. He stared at Arthur beside him, noticing his upset expression and hearing the stutter in his words as he tried to portray his disagreement on all this. The three of them before him. The two brothers and the other father.

 _"Raise a glass to the four of us. Tomorrow they'll be more of us. Telling the story of tonight."_

Four of us...

"Hello? Francis? Are you alright?" Matthew's soft voice broke him out of his thoughts. He blinked, realizing all eyes were staring on him now.

Arthur frowned over at him, waiting for him to respond to a question or statement he didn't hear. Alfred grinned up at him as Matthew tilted his head in confusion and concern to his guardian.

"Us as a family..." He mumbled out loud. They all raised a brow in confusion on the sudden change in demeanor the Frenchman had. A moment ago he was aghast to the idea, but now he was repeating as if he was full on accepting of the idea.

"No shit, Sherlock. Didn't you just hear what your bloody _son_ just said?" Arthur spat, putting a sarcastic emphasis on the word 'son'.

Francis looked over at Arthur, taking in what he saw. Bushy (ugly) eyebrows knitted together on a signature frown. Messy blonde hair sticking up in all directions as if there was no care to keep it neat. Deep emerald eyes that portrayed a vast forest filled with all sorts of wonders.

 _"Promise me, please... I want to know this isn't the last time."_

"I promise." Francis spoke aloud, causing Arthur to crinkle his nose in confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Francis, too, was unsure about what he promised or was promising to for the words just slipped out of his mouth. It was as if they were pulled along by an empty thought that never even passed through his mind.

He repeated almost automatically: "I promise."

This time, Arthur didn't scoff in annoyance or confusion. Instead the Brit's sour expression softened and he furrowed his brows together in an odd feeling of familiarity. Promise... Was there a promise? What promise?

 _"I never want to forget you."_

Both had no idea what promise it was but both knew there was a promise. But what? A promise on what? They both searched tirelessly in their minds to connect anything to whatever promise was being spoken about but nothing came to mind. Nothing at all.

"You kept it..." Arthur whispered, unaware of his own words slipping out of his mouth.

Kept what? They both didn't know. However, what they did know was that there was indeed a promise set between the four of them, one Francis had set. That promise, whatever it may be, had been fulfilled.

"Promise? What promise?" Alfred's voice interjected, breaking the uneasy atmosphere. "Am I missing something? What's going on? I wanna know! Are you keeping secrets? That's no fair! I want in!"

Francis blinked out of thought, staring down at Alfred who had began to pout, thinking he was being left out of something. Matthew mimicked his brother, giving a nod showing that he wanted to know too. Without a second thought, Francis let out a soft laugh and ruffled Alfred and Matthew's head.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." He said, looking from the boys to Arthur. "Let's go out and get something to eat, yes? It's quite late and I'm sure we have some things to talk about. After all... we are a family."

A gasp came from Matthew and Alfred as they suddenly jumped in the air and started laughing non stop as they ran around the two men. Little scraps of "yay!" and "family!" could be heard piping up around them.

This time, Arthur didn't oppose to the idea for he, too, had agreed reluctantly with the thought of the four of them as a family.

Drifting his attention elsewhere, Arthur caught sight of a sunset that was just about to die off into the horizon. He allowed the tiniest smile to pull at his lips as he observed the beauty of the melting colors giving way to the cool hues of the night.

"So beautiful," Arthur breathed, "The simple colors dancing together as they allow the night to take over the sky. Soon, the night would need to take their leave and the day would have to rise again. Such an interesting routine that happens continuously without a stop."

Francis overheard the other's mumbled descriptive monologue, letting a chuckle slip out.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" He whispered over to the other, causing Arthur to jump in surprise. He didn't think anyone heard him.

With a scoff, the Brit crossed his arms and glared at the Frenchman. "Sod off; you don't even know how to acknowledge the art of the sunset."

Oh, but Francis did know how to acknowledge the art of the sunset. He knew it's indescribable beauty and overflowing warm love. He acknowledged that love and kept it close to his heart every day and never lost sight of it.

Never.

...

 _"Goodbye until tomorrow_  
 _Goodbye until the rest of my life_  
 _And I have been waiting_  
 _I have been waiting for you_  
 _Waiting for you_  
 _Waiting for you..."_

...

The End.

 **_**  
 **A/N:**

 **Wow. It's over. I can't believe it's over. I've been working on this fic since last June and I can't believe it's finally over.**

 **Thank you so so so much for reading this. This was my second fic I've ever written and I'm so amazed at how far it's come. You guys, my dear readers, have always been so kind and helpful to me and my stories. All your comments and reactions and jokes and reviews you leave on my stories have always made my day. Thank you so much for everything you've guys done for me because, honestly, I wouldn't of been able to write or finish this story without you guys. Every single one of you; you've kept me well and helped me up when I needed it even when you didn't know it. I cherish every single one of you and I really do wish I could give you guys a hug. I love you all so so much, and thank you for sticking with this whirlwind of a story.**

 **I do hope the ending was satisfying for you all. I apologize if it's not great cause I'm not sure if I wrote this well. I feel like I didn't and it's a let down.**

 **The title and ending lyrics are from a musical so high-five to you if you recognize it ;)**

 **At the moment, I have two other ongoing fics for you guys to read!**

 **'We Wait Until Dawn' - Hetalia crossover with Until Dawn, but you don't have to know the game to enjoy the story! I'm making it so everyone can understand and enjoy it!**

 **'Light in Darkness' - a USUK story which is basically Arthur's diary about his time in America and how he meets Alfred. Arthur's a detective and Alfred's a health major- a little nod to Sherlock here and there y'know.**

 **But, besides that, thank you for reading! I hope you guys liked this story as much as I did.** ❤️

 **As usual, please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love to hear from you!**

 **Till the next story, see ya!**

 **-MM**


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